A Long Week
by storylover18
Summary: Arthur has scarlet fever. Merlin is quarantined with him inside the Prince's chambers. It was going to be a long week. Canon-era, bromance, no slash. !Sick Arthur, !Caring Merlin, potential for !Sick Merlin as well. Multi-chapter. Set somewhere after Season 2 but before Season 3.
1. The Beginning

**Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin.**

 **Hello! This is my first Merlin story but once I started watching the show a few weeks ago (late-comer, I know), I knew I had to write at least one fanfic for it. I hope you enjoy =)**

"You look cheerful," Merlin greeted Arthur as he came striding into his chamber.

"I won," Arthur answered, throwing his sword onto the table. His face was flushed with exhilaration and he was beaming.

"You always do," Merlin said matter-of-factly. "The bath's ready for you," he added.

Once Arthur was bathed and dressed, he sat at his table while Merlin went to fetch his dinner. He should be ravenous after a full day of training and fighting his knights but the idea of food was surprisingly off-putting.

"Here you are," Merlin said, setting down a plate of food and removing the cloth. "One of your favourites."

Arthur looked down at the roasted duck unenthusiastically.

"Is something wrong?" Merlin asked. Arthur glanced up at him.

"No, why do think that?" Arthur unfolded his silverware from its linen napkin with an extra degree of determination and Merlin raised an eyebrow.

"You hesitated."

"I did no such thing," retorted Arthur, spearing a piece of potato. He knew Merlin was watching and forced himself to swallow the potato.

"You did," Merlin argued. "Are you alright, Arthur?"

"Yes."

Merlin's eyebrows knit together slightly as he studied the prince.

"Are you sure? Your face is still awfully red."

"The only thing wrong with my face, Merlin, is that you are still in it."

Merlin looked at Arthur a second longer and then nodded.

"Fine," he said. "If that will be all?"

Arthur nodded and Merlin left the chamber. Once his servant was gone, Arthur put down his fork and leaned back in his chair, rubbing his forehead with his fingertips. Abandoning his food, Arthur ambled over to his bed and fell into it haphazardly. When Merlin returned an hour later, he found the food untouched on the table and Arthur snoring in his bed. Concerned, Merlin cleared the meal away and tucked the blankets around Arthur. He wondered if he should tell Gaius, decided not to, blew out the candle, and left the prince to his slumber.

* * *

Arthur was still fast asleep when Merlin entered his chambers the next morning. He had fully expected to be scolded; he was running late and Arthur was usually awake by this hour. Thankful for the prince's exhaustion, Merlin flung open the curtains and let the sunlight stream in.

"Rise and shine," he chirped and Arthur groaned as he normally did.

"Go away, Merlin," he muttered, rolling over.

"It's time to get up for training."

Arthur very much wanted to say "Not this morning" but he wouldn't let his knights skip training because they were ill without a consultation from Gaius so he could hardly use the excuse himself, prince or not.

"Fine, I'm up," he sighed, sitting. His head ached but he swung his feet to the floor. Merlin turned from the wardrobe, tunic in hand, and stared at Arthur.

"What?" Arthur demanded.

"Do you feel alright, Arthur?"

"Is it really your place to ask?"

Merlin ignored the sharp tongue and crossed the room. Without hesitation he felt Arthur's forehead and in the brief moment he maintained contact, his suspicions were confirmed.

Arthur slapped Merlin's hand away.

"What do you think you're doing?" he demanded.

"You've got a fever," Merlin answered.

"I don't get fevers."

"Sure you do," retorted Merlin. "Need I remind you about the time after the Questing Beast? Or how about when you competed in the jousting tournament as Sir William? Or when the entire city fell asleep? You were burning up right before my eyes on that instance."

"I could say that same for you."

"Or my personal favourite," Merlin continued, ignoring the interruption. "The time you decided to get sick in the middle of Cenred's country while searching for Balinor."

"Yes, alright, you've made your point," said Arthur, holding onto the edge of the mattress to stop the feeling of the room spinning. "But none of those fevers were my fault. I get injured; I do not get ill."

"Everyone gets ill sometimes," Merlin replied. "Even me," he added with a charming smile.

"I know you get ill," scowled Arthur. "It's part of what makes you the most useless servant I've ever had. My other servants would have never dared to get ill."

Merlin was pleased to hear Arthur's banter hadn't been affected; after all, he still thought Merlin useless so how sick could he be? Still, banter or not, Merlin knew Arthur was sick enough that he ought to stay in bed.

"I'm serious, Arthur. You look terrible."

"How I look is none of your concern," Arthur snapped. "Fetch me my breakfast, I need to be at the training grounds soon."

Merlin sighed but did as he was instructed – or so Arthur believed. However, as soon as he had left the room, Merlin ran for Gaius and together they re-entered the chamber. Arthur was at the wardrobe, holding onto the open door for support. He had taken off his nightshirt and his skin had a fine sheen of sweat that was glistening in the sunshine.

"Merlin, where have you put my –" Arthur stopped when he saw Gaius. He rolled his eyes and glared at Merlin.

"What did I tell you? I am fine."

"I don't care what you say," Merlin said. "You're burning up. You need to let Gaius look at you."

"Merlin is right, Arthur," Gaius said, tilting his head as he studied Arthur. He stepped forward and gestured towards the bed. "If you will please lie down, I'll get to the bottom of this."

Arthur shot Merlin a deadly look before lying down. He wouldn't admit it but his soft bed felt wonderful against his aching body. Merlin stood back as Gaius conducted his examination.

"And?" he asked once Gaius had straightened up. Gaius sighed and Arthur looked up at him with concern.

"Surely it is nothing serious," he said.

"I hope it isn't," answered Gaius.

"What does that mean?"

"I fear that you have scarlet fever, Sire."

"How can you not be certain?" Merlin asked, unable to hide the worry in his voice.

"The preliminary symptoms are there," Gaius explained. "The most prominent being the bright red cheeks and tongue. The rash is what will confirm the diagnosis but it takes at least twelve hours to appear once the fever starts."

"I do not have time for this," Arthur said, sitting up. "If you aren't certain, then there's a chance it's not scarlet fever."

"Regardless," Gaius said, putting his hand out to stop Arthur from moving any further. "You have a fever which means you need to stay in bed. I will make you a potion to ease the aches and pains and have it sent over."

"I can fetch it," Merlin volunteered and Gaius shook his head.

"No," he said. "Scarlet fever spreads easily. Arthur must be quarantined until it passes. Neither you nor Arthur may leave and no one else can enter."

"What about you?" Merlin asked.

"I have already survived a bout of the fever; it has no effect on me anymore. I will arrange to see you twice a day and ask Uther to post guards outside the chamber. Now, if you excuse me, I must tell the king."

Gaius bowed towards Arthur and then left. Arthur glared at Merlin for a third time.

"See what you've done? Not only do I have to put up with being ill, I'm a prisoner in my own chamber."

"It could be worse."

"How?"

"You could be me. I'm stuck in here with you."

Arthur angrily threw a pillow at his servant and then rolled over so his back was to Merlin. The warlock sighed but still made the effort to replace the pillow, walk around the bed, and pull the covers up. Arthur promptly turned the other way.

"Come on, look at the bright side," Merlin said.

"I fail to see how this situation can _have_ a bright side."

"You don't need to pretend to be fine anymore," Merlin tried to keep his voice cheerful. "You can freely admit you feel terrible and rest comfortably knowing that I can't leave the chamber so you can make my life a living hell for the next few days."

"Hmph," grunted Arthur. "Well, I suppose that's _something_."

Merlin sighed.

"Can I get you anything?"

"No, but you can draw the curtains again."

Merlin did as Arthur requested and the room became semi-dark. Merlin was at a loss; Arthur was clearly going back to sleep but what was he supposed to do? For a while, he wandered around the chamber and straightened things up. He adjusted the table settings and refolded all of Arthur's tunics. Just when he couldn't think of anything more to do save scrub the floors, there was a knock at the door.

Merlin opened it a crack, remembering what Gaius had said about the spread of the disease. He smiled when he saw Gwen's deep brown eyes filled with concern.

"Gaius has sent over some supplies," she said. "And I have some food."

Merlin opened the door further and took the tray from her hands. He set it on the table and then returned to receive the satchel Gwen had removed from her shoulder.

"Gaius said that there are potions in there for the fever and pain," she said. "He also said to carefully monitor the fever as it will get worse as the disease progresses. Keep his forehead cool."

Merlin nodded to show he understood.

"I can fetch some water if you need it," Gwen added. "There are guards posted but they know to send for me if you or Arthur needs anything."

"Thanks, Gwen."

Gwen bit her lip, uncertain if she could ask the question she was desperate to know the answer to. Merlin smiled kindly.

"He'll be fine, I promise. I won't let anything happen to him."

Finally the female servant smiled back.

"I know you won't," she said. "I'll come back when I can."

She glanced towards the guards as if to say "as often as they let me" and then hurried away. Merlin closed the door and took the bag to the table. It was very similar to the one Gaius took with him when he went to the villages and Merlin opened it. Neatly arranged inside were the bottles of potions clearly labelled in the physician's small, cramped script. Merlin also found several worn but clean handkerchiefs. As he picked them up, a piece of parchment fluttered to the ground. Merlin bent down and picked it up.

 _Merlin, do exactly as the potion bottles instruct. Do_ _not_ _try to heal Arthur yourself, it will have grave consequences._

Frowning, Merlin stuffed the paper into his trouser pocket and went about his work. He filled the washing basin with water from the pitcher he had brought in that morning and took it, along with the stack of handkerchiefs from Gaius, to the table near Arthur's bed. The medicine bottles also found their way to this surface.

Once he was set up, Merlin carefully read the label on the potion bottle labeled "Fever Reducer". He found a clean goblet and added three drops of the liquid to the water and swirled it around till it was mixed.

"Right," Merlin said to himself. "Now the hard part."

He put the goblet down and reached over to wake Arthur.

"Arthur," he said quietly. "Arthur, you need to wake up."

Arthur grunted and Merlin shook the strong shoulder with a bit more force. Finally Arthur's eyes opened and he glared at Merlin – Merlin assumed that for the next couple of days, every time Arthur set eyes on him it would be through a glare.

"What?" he asked.

"Gaius has sent over a potion to help your fever," Merlin said, holding out the goblet. Arthur eyed it warily.

"Did you prepare it?"

"Yes. Gaius sent instructions. Why? Do you not trust me?"

"I'm not sure," Arthur muttered, sitting up and taking the goblet. He sniffed it uncertainly.

"It's water with three drops of the potion mixed in."

Arthur decided it was safe and swallowed the mixture in one gulp.

"Anything else?" he asked dryly, handing the cup back to Merlin. "Or may I go to sleep again?"

"Gwen brought up breakfast if you're hungry."

"Guinevere was here?"

Merlin smiled at the small spark of life the woman's name had caused in Arthur's already-bright, fevered eyes.

"Yes, she brought the breakfast tray and the potions from Gaius."

"How was she?"

"She seemed fine," Merlin answered nonchalantly, if only to get a rise out of Arthur.

"Did she come into the chamber? Did she see me?"

"No, there are guards posted outside."

"Good." Arthur declared and Merlin raised an eyebrow.

"… why is that good?"

"I would hate for her to get sick from being too close."

"And what about me? Aren't you concerned I'll get scarlet fever as well?"

"You don't need any help getting sick. It's a miracle you haven't already had it, you've managed to come down with every possible illness known to mankind."

"Your concern, as ever, is touching."

"I do my best," Arthur said. "If there is nothing else, I am going back to sleep."

"Am I to take it that you don't want any food, then?"

"No," answered Arthur, lying down and pulling the blankets up. "I'd rather keep my stomach contents where they belong, I'm sure you'd appreciate that."

"Thanks."

"Don't mention it."

Arthur sighed deeply and closed his eyes again. Merlin turned to his work station and picked up a handkerchief from the top of the pile. He soaked it in the water and wrung it out before placing it on Arthur's forehead. He was still leaning over Arthur when the blue eyes opened again.

"Merlin," Arthur said flatly. "What do you think you are doing?"

"Gaius said to keep your forehead cool," answered Merlin. "The fever is prone to worsen."

Arthur blinked tiredly. Merlin found it slightly concerning that the prince did not seem to have the mental or physical energy to argue but instead he stayed silent and his eyes drifted shut. Merlin adjusted the cloth and then stood back.

He gazed out the window. There was a brilliant blue sky with puffy white clouds and a warm breeze brought the sweet smell of spring but the chamber already had the stuffiness of a sick-room. Merlin sighed and looked at his sick master; it was going to be a long week.

 **Okay, the historian of medicine in me is making me admit that this isn't historically accurate. As someone who's made a career out of studying sickness, I can tell you that scarlet fever was not called such until long past the timeframe of the Arthurian legend. However, the first recorded case was actually written by Hippocrates himself, circa 400 BC. During Arthur's time, scarlet fever would have had a long, Latin name which referenced the virulent rash and redness but for simplicity's sake (also, *fanfiction*), I stuck to the common and easy to spell name.**

 **I'd love to hear what you think of it so far, thanks! Also, if you have any scenes you'd like to read, please let me know and I'll see what I can do (this goes for in this story but one-shot ideas are welcome as well)!**


	2. That Makes Two of Us

**Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin.**

 **Hi, everyone! Many thanks to all those who read and reviewed the last chapter – I was surprised by how many people commented. I would have written this chapter days ago but, well, I was half-way through Series 4 and needed to finish it before writing. And now that this chapter is posted, I can watch Series 5 … enjoy!**

By the afternoon, Merlin was beginning to sense just exactly how tiresome being in quarantine with Arthur would be. While it was true that Arthur slept for most of the morning and Merlin diligently kept his forehead cool, it was boring with no one to talk to. Merlin would even take having something thrown at him rather than have to endure another week of this. It wasn't that Merlin didn't appreciate not being insulted all the time but, though he would never admit it, he was worried about Arthur.

A knock made Merlin leap up with anticipation of speaking with someone and he hurried to open the door. It was Gwen holding another food tray.

"Lunch," she announced. "How is he?"

Merlin accepted the tray and glanced over his shoulder at Arthur before turning back to Gwen.

"He's been asleep all morning," he answered. "And I've been monitoring his fever."

Gwen nodded, looking worried again.

"I wish I could see him, tend to him."

"I know," replied Merlin gently. "But he doesn't want you getting sick, he said so himself."

"He did?"

"Yes.

Gwen couldn't hide her smile and Merlin smiled back. One of the guards cleared his throat.

"I've got to go," Gwen said. Merlin nodded.

"Thanks for the food," he said, closing the door. The one minute conversation hardly seemed adequate preparation to face another five or six hours in the silent room but Merlin supposed it was better than nothing.

He set the tray on the table, next to the one still full from breakfast, and spooned out a small portion of soup from the tureen.

"Arthur," he called, gathering up a cloth napkin and spoon. "Lunch time!"

Not surprisingly, this did nothing to wake the prince. Merlin took the meal to the bed and set it down to cool while he removed the damp cloth from Arthur's forehead.

He wet it again in the basin of water and sat on the edge of the bed, purposefully sponging away the beads of sweat.

"Arthur," he said loudly. "Wake up."

Arthur groaned and tried to roll over.

"No," Merlin said, using his hands to keep Arthur on his back. "You need to wake up."

Arthur groaned again but this time opened his eyes. Merlin smiled.

"Good," he said. "How do you feel?"

"How would you feel waking up to your face?"

Merlin, the smile still plastered on his face, blinked and then nodded.

"Right," he said. "I brought you some lunch."

"I'm not hungry."

"You need to eat."

"Merlin."

"You don't have to do any of the work, just open your mouth and swallow. I'll do the rest."

Arthur stared intently at Merlin and then propped himself up on his elbow. Merlin knew the gesture – it was supposed to be intimidating but today it failed miserably.

"Are you going to feed me, Merlin?"

"If that's what it takes, yes."

"I can feed myself, I'm not an infant."

"Then stop acting like one." Merlin said, reaching for the bowl of soup. "Eat."

Arthur knew he had been tricked into eating but nonetheless he took the spoon and began eating the soup.

"You will pay for this," he muttered and Merlin raised an eyebrow.

"Oh, yeah? How? You can barely get out of bed."

"You said it yourself, you're stuck in here with me." Arthur winced as he burnt his tongue. "Fetch me a drink," he added.

Merlin retrieved the pitcher from the tray and filled a clean goblet.

"Here," he said, handing the cup to Arthur. Arthur gulped it down thirstily and thrust the cup back at Merlin.

"Do you want another potion?" Merlin asked, secretly pleased that Arthur was eating.

"Do you have one to soothe my throat?"

"Your throat's sore?" Merlin asked in surprise.

"No, I want the potion because it tastes good," whipped Arthur sarcastically. "Of course my throat is sore."

"You didn't say that to Gaius when he was here."

"That's because it didn't hurt then."

"How bad is it?"

"For goodness sake, Merlin, do you have a potion or not?"

"Uh," Merlin said, getting up from the edge of the bed and hurrying to the medicine bag. "I have one for pain but it doesn't say that it will cure a sore throat. Do you want to try it?"

Arthur sighed heavily.

"Fine," he said. "But remember to ask Gaius to make one up, I can barely talk."

"That's a first," Merlin mumbled.

"What was that, Merlin?"

"Nothing," Merlin exclaimed, turning around. "Here you are," he said, handing Arthur a small glass phial.

Arthur glared at Merlin but took the potion in one gulp.

"Ugh," he grimaced. "Is there no way to make them taste better?"

"Afraid not," answered Merlin. "You know what they say – it tastes bad but it works."

"Let's hope so."

"Come on," Merlin protested. "Gaius has never failed you in the past. He'll make sure you're okay, he always does."

"He can't save me from your mindless chatter," Arthur reminded him, moving the now-empty bowl to the bedside cabinet and falling back against his pillows. "Besides, he doesn't even know what I've got. If we're lucky, this is nothing more than a simple cold and I'll be back in the training grounds tomorrow."

"Aren't you the optimist?"

"I feel better than I did this morning."

"That's because I made you take some medicine," Merlin said bluntly. "Face it, Arthur, you and I are stuck in here for the next week and there is nothing you can do about it."

"I refuse to face it because it is not true."

"How can you not? I don't understand how someone who is so skilled with a sword can be so stupid and naïve to something as simple as being unwell. It's not a weakness, Arthur."

"Maybe not to you."

Merlin rolled his eyes.

"You did not get sick because you are weak. You're the best knight in Camelot."

"I did not earn that title by allowing myself to get sick," Arthur retorted. "It was earned through hours of training and hard work."

Merlin picked up the empty bowl and walked back to the table with it.

"Are you telling me," he said, serving himself a portion in a clean bowl. "That you never got sick as a child?"

"Of course I did," Arthur replied, staring up at the underside of his bed canopy. "All children do. Morgana and I even had a proclivity for getting ill at the same time; it never ceased to amaze my father or Gaius."

Arthur's voice was lacking the annoyance it had held moments earlier and Merlin took the opportunity to return to Arthur's bedside with his lunch. He sat on the very end, leaning against the wooden post.

"Really?" he asked, smiling. Arthur nodded.

"Yes," he answered. "My father always used to sit with us to keep us entertained … he'd tell stories, play games."

The fond memory caused a slight glint in Arthur's eye and his smile grew.

"I can remember one time Morgana and I had been laid up for days with influenza …"

* * *

"Arthur?" Morgana's voice carried from the door and through the chamber. The young prince blinked tiredly.

"What is it?" he asked. The door creaked open and Morgana, clad in her nightgown, appeared.

"What's wrong?" Arthur asked again.

"I'm lonely," Morgana answered, her lower lip trembling. "And I do not feel well."

Arthur sighed.

"Neither do I, Morgana. Please, go back to your chambers and get some sleep."

"I can't sleep," she said.

"Have you asked Gaius for your sleep draught?"

"I can only take them in the evenings. Besides, the nightmares are tenfold when I'm unwell. Gaius says it's because of the fever."

"What can I do to help?"

"Keep me company."

"Morgana, you shouldn't be here, much less be out of bed."

"They can hardly get angry, we're sick," Morgana pointed out. "Besides," she went to the other side of Arthur's bed and threw back the covers. "I'll be in bed when they find me."

Arthur started to protest but sighed.

"Fine," he said. "But stay on your side."

Morgana smiled.

"You really are like the brother I never had, Arthur."

* * *

"So what happened?" Merlin prompted Arthur, whose face reflected his being caught up in the memory. There was a sort of dreamy look in his eyes – the same look, Merlin realized, Arthur often had when speaking with Gwen.

"The nurse found Morgana's bed empty and the guards sounded the alarm. No one thought to check my chambers and it was a servant bringing up supper who discovered Morgana in my bed. Father was furious but I daresay once all the searches had been called off, he found it rather amusing."

"I'm sure he did," Merlin said, smiling. "So at what age did you decide to stop getting ill? If you could freely admit it then, why can't you freely admit it now?"

"Because I was only a boy then," Arthur answered. "No one expected me to be strong and lead them into battle. Enemies were not watching my every move, waiting for a sign of weakness."

"I hardly think having a fever is going to be enough for Cenred to send his armies to march upon Camelot," Merlin couldn't help but point out.

"You don't understand, Merlin. I cannot afford to be sick; the people are looking for a leader who is strong."

"The people do think you're strong," Merlin argued.

"For now," Arthur said. "What are they going to think when they hear that I get sick?"

"They'll think you're human and they'll be concerned for you. There's no shame in it, Arthur."

Arthur didn't reply.

"Arthur?"

Arthur held up his hand and Merlin frowned at the deep look of concentration on his face.

"What is it?"

In response, Arthur swiftly leaned over and vomited onto the floor. Merlin jumped in surprise. Arthur, still lying on his stomach with head hanging over the edge, coughed roughly and before pushing himself up again.

"Is that normal?" Arthur muttered through clenched teeth.

"I … I don't know," stammered Merlin. "Do you think you're going to be sick again?"

Arthur leaned over and threw up again.

"I suppose that answers that," Merlin said under his breath. He looked around the room and spotted an empty basin on Arthur's dressing table. The sound effects told Merlin that Arthur was still pre-occupied so, standing up, he held out his hand, mumbled an incantation, and the basin flew towards him. Merlin caught it and set it on the bed.

"Alright," he said, helping Arthur up again. "It's okay."

"I know it's okay," Arthur snapped.

"Here." Merlin thrust the basin into Arthur's lap. "Use this next time. I'm going to send for Gaius."

The warlock hurried to the door and spoke to one of the guards. Once he left the corridor, Merlin returned to Arthur. He was disheartened to see that the prince's complexion, which had grown rosy and cheerful in the midst of his storytelling, had returned to its sickly pallor and there were sweat beads running down Arthur's face.

Merlin, ignoring the mess on the floor, took a clean handkerchief from the pile and wet it. He offered it to Arthur thinking Arthur would not want Merlin tending him in this state but Arthur's grip on the basin didn't lessen and his eyes were fixed on a point somewhere across the room. Merlin folded the cloth and wiped away the sweat, concerned that Arthur hadn't done so much as protest.

"Do you want some water?" he asked but Arthur shook his head and swallowed roughly.

"No," he answered. "I'm not done."

To prove his point, Arthur threw up for a third time. Merlin frowned but there was nothing he could do until Gaius arrived.

The physician hurried into the chambers half an hour later. Arthur, by this point, had finally surrendered his basin and was sleeping restlessly. Merlin had propped him up with pillows so he didn't choke and was sitting on the edge of the bed, basin at the ready. He looked up from tending the fever when the door opened.

"Where have you been?" he exclaimed, standing up. "Do you have any idea how much vomit has come out of Arthur's mouth in the last hour?"

"I was getting supplies in the village. Tell me what happened."

Merlin told Gaius what had happened since Gwen delivered their lunch, ending in a worried tone with, "Is he going to be okay?"

"I suspect he'll pull through," Gaius said, good-naturedly. "Very few have ever died from throwing up their lunch."

"Gaius," Merlin complained indignantly and Gaius smiled.

"Sorry," he said. "But Arthur will be fine."

"Promise? How do you know? Maybe he was poisoned."

"Have you had lunch?"

"Yes."

"The same food as Arthur?"

"Yes."

"Have you vomited?"

"No."

"There you are, then. The only thing that Arthur has eaten today which you have not is the potions I prepared for him. Did you follow the directions on the label exactly?"

"Yes, I'm sure of it."

"Then there's only one explanation: Arthur is ill."

Merlin's shoulders slumped.

"Do people with scarlet fever normally throw up?"

"It has been known to happen."

"What if it's not scarlet fever?"

"Then it is the stomach flu. Honestly, Merlin, keep talking like that and people will start to think you actually like Arthur."

"I'm worried about him. I wish I could heal him."

Gaius grew serious.

"Did you get the note I put in the medicine bag?"

Merlin nodded.

"But I don't understand –"

"Do not try to heal him, Merlin. The healing arts are tricky at the best of times and you've never performed them before."

"Sure I have. I've lost count how many times I've healed Arthur from a battle wound."

"It's different," Gaius explained. "That type of magic repairs damage caused by another, it doesn't apply to damage the body is doing to itself. You cannot risk it, Merlin."

Merlin looked at Arthur and then back at Gaius.

"Promise me," the court physician pressed. Merlin sighed.

"I promise."

"Good. Now, keep an eye on his fever and continue to encourage food and drink if he can manage."

Merlin nodded.

"By the way, Arthur requested a potion to soothe his throat if you've got one."

"Hmm," mused Gaius. "That's not a very promising sign but I'll see what I can do."

Gaius stepped away from the bed and looked down in disgust upon hearing a squelch beneath his shoes. Merlin cringed.

"Sorry," he said. "I haven't quite finished cleaning up from Arthur's mishap."

Gaius raised an eyebrow.

"I'll be back tonight, Merlin."

Merlin nodded and the physician left the room, a trail of wet shoeprints in his wake. It seemed as though Arthur had finally fallen into a deep sleep – he hadn't stirred once while Gaius had been examining him – so Merlin placed the handkerchief back on the prince's forehead and set about cleaning up the floor. He was just about finished when Arthur groaned.

"Merlin …" he mumbled. "Merlin!"

Merlin ran over to the bed and thrust the basin into Arthur's hands just in time. He watched, helpless, as his friend threw up violently.

"Merlin," Arthur panted, trying to catch his breath. He pushed his damp hair from his face and looked at Merlin with pained eyes.

"Yes?"

"I think I'm ill."

"Glad to see you've come to your senses. That makes two of us."

 **Reviews are very much appreciated, thanks!**


	3. The First Night

**Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin.**

 **Hello, all! I hope you're doing well. Thank you, as always, for such kind reviews for the last chapter. It's always encouraging to a writer to see them! While I haven't finished series five yet, I had a very clear idea of what I wanted for this chapter. Enjoy!**

The afternoon was rough. Arthur kept throwing up and Merlin kept cleaning up. Neither of them were in particularly good moods when Gwen brought their supper tray.

"Arthur, you need to eat."

"There's no point. It just comes back up."

"We'll try something easy. Plain broth, if that's what it takes."

"Merlin, I can't."

"You must."

Arthur ignored his servant and rolled onto his side, clutching his stomach. Merlin went to the table and spooned a few cups of the chicken broth – he suspected Gaius had had a word with the kitchens – into a bowl and brought it back to the bed.

"Come on," Merlin said, trying to sound kind yet firm. "Please, just try. It's for your own good."

Arthur sighed but sat up.

"Have the bucket ready," he advised, taking the soup. He tentatively put the spoon in his mouth and Merlin winced as Arthur forced it down. It was painful to watch but the prince managed about half of what Merlin considered an already-small portion.

"I'm done," Arthur muttered, willing the food to stay down. Merlin took the bowl and spoon back to the table. He took a serving of bread in his hands and ate hungrily before returning to Arthur, who had lain back down.

"How do you feel?"

"Don't ask."

Merlin frowned and leaned over to feel Arthur's forehead.

"Your fever's getting worse."

"Tell me something I don't know."

"Tomatoes are fruit?"

Arthur looked up at Merlin with a confused expression. Merlin smiled.

"You said to tell you something you didn't know. Did you know that tomatoes are actually fruit?"

Arthur glared at him.

"Firstly, I did know that. Secondly, shut up, Merlin."

Arthur's eyes drifted closed but they opened when the chamber door creaked and he heard footsteps.

"Gaius," he said. "Please tell me you come bearing good news."

"Yes, please," Merlin added.

"I'm sorry, Sire," Gaius said. "But I do have the potion you requested to soothe your throat."

"Ah, good. Thank you, Gaius."

Arthur sat up again and took the phial from Gaius.

"How come you're not rude to him?" Merlin protested.

"Because he's not you," Arthur answered, drinking the potion in one swallow. "Uh-oh," he muttered, searching frantically for his basin. "Merlin!"

Merlin looked around and spotted the basin across the room. He wondered how it got there and then remembered he'd been holding it when Gwen knocked on the door with their food. He must've carried it with him to unbolt the door. Merlin couldn't use magic this time and he suffered dearly for his mistake. When Arthur couldn't find anything to vomit into, he leaned over his bed again and threw up onto the floor, splattering Merlin's feet with his stomach contents.

Merlin grimaced and Arthur slowly righted himself.

"I should apologize for that," he said, feeling miserable but enjoying the look on Merlin's face. "But that's what you get for forcing me to eat."

"Sire," Gaius interrupted before Merlin could respond. "May I enquire as to how you're feeling? Clearly your stomach has still not settled and the flush is still there."

"So is the fever," Merlin added, gingerly walking to the chair near the window. He began unlacing his boots. "It's getting worse."

"May I?" Gaius asked and Arthur nodded. The physician stepped around the mess on the floor and laid his hand on Arthur's forehead.

"Merlin is right," he announced.

"That's a first," mumbled Arthur.

"Can you please take off your tunic?" Gaius requested and Arthur obliged.

"What are you looking for?" Merlin asked.

"The rash," Gaius answered, closely inspecting Arthur's back. He sighed. "There doesn't appear to be any sign of it."

"That's good, isn't it?" Arthur asked, putting his shirt back on. "It means it isn't scarlet fever."

"Perhaps," admitted Gaius. "But it could take a while yet for it to appear. It's not as predictable as it could be."

"So what do we do about it?"

"There's nothing we can do, Merlin," Gaius said, turning towards the servant, now in stocking-feet. "We have to wait out the illness. As I told you earlier, if a rash appears it confirms my diagnosis and if it does not, this is clearly the stomach flu."

Arthur groaned.

"So either way I'm going to suffer."

"I'm afraid so, Arthur." Gaius replied. "I can make up a potion to calm your stomach – it takes a few hours so I will have it delivered to you later this evening – and I've brought a sleeping draft for you. Do you think you can take it?"

"Taking it is never the issue," Arthur answered. "Keeping it down is problematic."

"It works quickly," Gaius assured him. "Merlin will give it to you when you're ready."

"Thank you, Gaius."

The physician smiled and patted Arthur's shoulder reassuringly.

"You're going to be fine, Arthur."

"What did my father say when you told him?"

"He was concerned, of course," Gaius responded. "And he said to tell you that you are relieved of all your duties until you have fully recovered."

Arthur raised an eyebrow.

"How generous," he muttered.

"He also said," Gaius added. "To tell you to face this like you've faced everything else that's laid in your path: with courage and without fear or hesitation."

"That's something, isn't it?" Merlin asked cheerfully, coming to the other side of Arthur's bed.

"I suppose."

"I'll start the potion for you as soon as I return to my chambers," Gaius promised. "And Merlin will notify me if anything changes."

Arthur nodded and Gaius left his side, motioning for Merlin to follow. They stopped near the table and spoke in whispers.

"Watch him closely," Gaius told Merlin. "You must try to control his fever."

Merlin nodded.

"There's a sleeping draft in there," Gaius motioned to a basket on the table. "And I brought you a few changes of clothes. The guards are bringing a cot up as we speak and Gwen is finding fresh linen."

"Thank you, Gaius," Merlin said.

"Be careful, Merlin. While I'm not certain what is ailing Arthur, I don't want you to catch it."

"I'll be fine, I promise."

Gaius studied his young charge and then nodded.

"I'll say goodnight then."

There was a flurry of activity over the next half hour. The cot arrived, as did Gwen with the linen. Merlin made up his bed and removed his clothes from the basket. He set the sleeping draft on the table and then proceeded to clean the floor.

"Merlin?" Arthur moaned while Merlin was on his hands and knees, scrubbing.

"Yes?"

Arthur leaned over and for a brief moment, Merlin realized the basin was still on the table and he was directly in Arthur's line of fire. He was paralyzed in anticipation but Arthur snorted.

"Why am I not surprised?" Arthur chuckled, lying down again. Merlin frowned.

"What?"

"You never cease to amaze me, Merlin. Placing yourself there without the proper precautions, you're practically asking to be thrown up on."

"Are you going to throw up?"

"No."

"Good."

Merlin resumed his cleaning and stood up a few moments later. He was annoyed at Arthur's trick but it was reassuring to hear the sarcasm and condescending insults; it meant that Arthur was at least conscious and aware of his surroundings.

"Well," Merlin said brightly. "How about getting ready for bed?"

"I'm already _in_ bed."

"Can I tempt you with anything to eat or drink? How about a clean tunic?"

Arthur sighed.

"Neither," he said. "But I will take the sleeping draft Gaius brought."

Merlin retrieved the bottle and Arthur swallowed it with ease. Almost immediately Merlin began to see the affects. The prince's body relaxed considerably and his head lolled to one side. If he hadn't seen the progression of the potion before, Merlin would have been concerned but he knew this was normal and, better yet, he knew it would knock Arthur out for several hours.

Sure enough, Arthur was snoring within a few minutes. Merlin set about getting him ready for the night; he pulled the blankets around him and placed the compress on his forehead. As an afterthought, Merlin pulled the covers off Arthur's feet and removed his socks, knowing that Arthur hated sleeping with socks on.

The last thing Merlin did was move the basin from the table. He pondered where to put it and realized the best place was likely on the floor. He set it down on the space he had just cleaned and then blew out the candle on the bedside table.

Merlin enjoyed a luke-warm supper before washing and changing into his night-shirt. He was wary of going to sleep but as soon as he lay down, he felt his eyelids begin to droop and he fell asleep almost as quickly as Arthur had.

* * *

A rough knock woke Merlin in the wee hours of the morning. One of the guards handed him a potion and Merlin realized it must be the stomach soother Gaius had promised.

Yawning, Merlin thanked the guard and went to check on his patient. Arthur was still sleeping and Merlin didn't dare wake him. The fever was about the same, much to Merlin's relief, and once he replaced the compress, the warlock felt no shame in returning to his own slumber.

* * *

Arthur rolled over fitfully. The sleeping potion meant he wasn't lying awake with an upset stomach but it was doing very little to cure anything else. Arthur was hot and uncomfortable and his tunic was sticking to his back.

"Arthur," a female voice said softly and he felt a delicate hand smoothing back his hair. "It's alright, sweetheart."

Arthur forced his eyes open and Igraine smiled at him.

"It's okay, Arthur."

"Mother!" he exclaimed. "What are you doing here?"

"Tending to you," Igraine reached for the basin of water on the bed and wrung out one of the compresses. "Do you remember taking ill?"

Igraine began gingerly sponging his hairline.

"Gaius thinks I have scarlet fever," Arthur answered. "But I do not understand; you're dead."

"Does that mean a mother can't watch over her son?"

"But … but _how_?"

"Hush, Arthur, you need to save your strength. It does not matter how."

Arthur fell silent but studied his mother's fine features while she continued to nurse his fever.

"What is it?" Igraine asked after a few moments. "You look troubled."

"I've missed you," Arthur answered quietly. "I have never stopped wishing for you to still be alive, ruling at my father's side."

"Do you still hate Uther for what he did to me?"

Arthur shook his head.

"No."

Igraine smiled again.

"It does my heart good to know you are at peace with each other. He may not say it but he's so proud of the man you've become."

"And you, mother? Do I make you proud?"

"My dear boy," Igraine said, her eyes filling with tears. "More than you could possibly know."

She leaned down and kissed Arthur's forehead.

"And now, dear heart, you need to sleep. Close your eyes."

Arthur, feeling warm and comfortable knowing his mother was watching over him, did as he was told and was soon fast asleep again.

The next time he felt the mattress sag, Arthur was certain he'd open his eyes and see his mother there. The thought excited him but instead of fair blonde hair, he saw Morgana's dark cascade of curls.

"Morgana!" he exclaimed, sitting up much too quickly. "What are you doing here?"

Morgana eased him back down.

"Don't be ridiculous, Arthur. Did you really think I would not visit you?"

"No," Arthur said defiantly. "No, you can't be here."

"Why not?" asked Morgana. "I've always been in the past. Despite our differences, I do care about you. I wanted to make sure you are alright."

"No, you disappeared with Morgause. I have searched all of Camelot for you. You can't be sitting here, father would think me a fool if he knew."

"You're talking nonsense," Morgana soothed, rubbing his shoulder. "I've gone nowhere."

"Where's Merlin?"

"I sent him to bed when I arrived. Gaius said he's been by your side without fail from the moment you took sick."

"I thought we were in quarantine."

"Do you not remember? I suffered from scarlet fever as a girl; it can do me no harm now."

"So you're safe?"

"Perfectly. Sleep now, Arthur."

Feeling more unsettled in Morgana's presence than his mother's, Arthur closed his eyes again and the potion carried him off soon enough.

The sleeping draught was wearing out by the early morning hours and Arthur woke up in time to realize he was going to be sick to his stomach. He looked around frantically for his basin.

"It's on the floor," Uther's harsh voice told him.

Arthur picked it up but once he was finished, he remained hunched over, unsure if there was another bout to come.

"Arthur," Uther's voice was firm and Arthur, breathing heavily, looked up.

"Father," he whispered.

"I am disappointed in you, Arthur. The kingdom needs you now more than ever and I find you in your chambers, hugging a sick basin! I raised you to be better than this."

"I'm sorry," Arthur mumbled. "I tried to tell them I was fine."

"You are the crown prince, you do not need to listen to an ancient physician and snivelling servant. You are stronger than this, Arthur Pendragon."

"I know, I'm sorry," Arthur repeated. "I tried."

"Try harder."

Arthur, still nauseous and with sweat pouring off his face, put the basin down and slid out of bed. He was unsteady on his feet but he stood before Uther.

"My lord, what do you wish for me?"

"There have been reports of a woman wandering the forest near the border of Odin's country. You ride at dawn."

Arthur swallowed and nodded.

"Yes, Sire."

"Do not fail me again."

Arthur hung his head in shame.

"Of course not, my lord. I will make you proud."

Uther laughed and his words were full of scorn.

"How can I be proud of a son who cowers in his bed?"

"Mother said you were proud of me." Arthur replied quietly.

"Your mother is dead!"

"And you would have me take her place."

Uther did not hesitate.

"Yes."

"I am sorry to be such a disappointment. I would bring her back for you if I could."

"But you cannot. You can, however, bring back Morgana."

Arthur finally raised his head.

"Father, you know I would readily give my life for her safe return."

"Then where is she?" Uther lashed out. "You have not tried hard enough to find her! Your cowardice places your life and safety above hers."

Arthur fought to retain eye contact.

"I will do better."

"I hope you do."

Uther stared coldly at Arthur for a moment longer and then turned on his heel. As soon as Arthur heard the door click closed, he fell onto his hands and knees, unable to support himself any longer.

Merlin woke up to the crash. He seized the candle burning on the table and hurried over to find Arthur on the floor next to his bed.

"Arthur!" Merlin exclaimed, kneeling next to him. "Arthur, are you alright?"

Arthur slumped over into Merlin's lap and the warlock felt his forehead.

"Arthur!" he exclaimed again, easing the prince onto the floor. He found a cool cloth and pressed it against Arthur's burning skin.

"I'm sorry, mother," Arthur murmured with his eyes still closed. "I tried to forgive father but he still blames me. He wants me to die for Morgana."

Merlin frowned.

"Arthur, wake up!"

He shook his friend's shoulders and Arthur's eyes flew open. Merlin jumped and Arthur looked around wildly.

"Merlin!" he exclaimed. "What are you doing here? Morgana said she sent you to bed."

Merlin raised an eyebrow.

"Morgana was here?" he asked.

"Yes," answered Arthur. "She said she had the fever as a child and it was safe for her to be here. Do you not remember?"

Merlin shook his head.

"No," he said. "Morgana isn't in Camelot, Arthur."

The comment seemed to resonate with Arthur.

"My father," he exclaimed. "I need to leave. Prepare the horses."

Arthur tried to get up but Merlin held him down easily.

"Merlin, what are you doing? We need to find Morgana. My father says I must find her, even if it means giving up my life."

"You need to rest, Arthur. Uther has relieved you from all your duties until you are better."

"No, he thinks I am a coward who hides in bed out of fear of dying."

"You are not a coward," Merlin said. "And Uther does not think you are. Remember what Gaius told you? He said that Uther wanted you to face this with courage, just like you face everything else."

"He thinks I'm a coward," insisted Arthur. "How do you know the mind of the king? You're nothing more than a snivelling servant. I needn't listen to you."

"Arthur." Merlin said firmly. "Uther does not want you to leave your chambers. We're in quarantine."

"I promised my mother I would make her proud."

"Your mother?"

"Yes," Arthur argued. "Now help me up."

"Arthur, your mother is dead."

"Does that mean she can't take care of me?"

Merlin's eyebrow went up further still.

"Yes."

"How dare you! She was right here, tending my fever."

"Arthur, you are hallucinating. Your mother was never here. Morgana was never here. Uther was never here. It's just me."

"You're lying."

"No, trust me. Your fever is out of control, it's making you see and hear things that aren't really there."

"I will not listen to you. I must prove to my father that I am a brave and courageous knight of Camelot."

"He already knows that you are."

"If he wishes for me to die to bring Morgana back, then that is what I must do. Ready the horses."

Merlin studied the intent face and finally nodded.

"Fine," he said. "But we must get you ready. Are you thirsty?"

Arthur nodded.

"One moment."

Merlin hurried to fetch a goblet of water, adding in doses of the sleeping and fever draughts.

"Here you are, Sire," he said, handing the goblet to Arthur. Arthur swallowed it without a thought and Merlin was relieved when he saw the potion taking effect. Merlin noticed that Arthur had thrown up at some point and rather than change the sheets, he cleaned the overturned sick basin with magic. Once the bed was clean, Merlin hoisted Arthur into it as best he could, though he did not pull the blankets up this time.

He ran to the door and told one of the guards to fetch Gaius and a few moments later, the physician, still in his nightgown, was standing next to the bed.

"What should we do?" Merlin asked. "The fever is getting worse."

"There is nothing we can do," Gaius answered with a sigh. "The potion should begin to work soon and you need to keep him cool with the compresses."

Merlin nodded, watching Arthur nervously.

"I should never have gone to sleep."

"It's not your fault, Merlin. You could not have stopped this even if you were awake and you need to keep up your strength."

Merlin didn't appear comforted by these words.

"I'll come back at first light."

Merlin nodded again and Gaius left the chamber.

 **I'd be really curious to hear what you think about this. I had a hard time writing the hallucinations because it was tricky to figure out how to portray what Arthur was experiencing without Merlin realizing but also because I needed to figure out how each character would interact with Arthur. I always wanted Igraine to be gentle with her son but Morgana and Uther were much harder. I wrote one version where Morgana taunts him about her magic but I was wary of this because I didn't want to undermine exactly how much they know about her magic in the year she's missing. Uther could have been a repeat of his wife but I really wanted him to make Arthur feel ashamed, even if it meant he said things he would never actually say. All in all, reviews are very appreciated!**

 **PS – thanks to the anonymous reviewer who correctly pointed out this is story needs to be set after season two instead of during! This is what happens when you binge watch, the seasons sort of meld together …**


	4. A Diagnosis for Prince Arthur

**Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin.**

 **The King is dead. Long live the Queen.**

 **Yes, I have now joined the millions of other Merlin fans in mourning Arthur's death and questioning why we were not destined to have a series six. Thank you, as always for the latest reviews and interest! I'm so glad everyone seems to be enjoying the story. Here's your reward: a diagnosis for poor Arthur.**

Merlin was much more wary about going to sleep this time, regardless of what Gaius told him. Instead, he sat vigil at Arthur's bedside and kept replacing cold compresses. It didn't seem to be making much of a difference, however, as the prince's temperature slowly continued its climb. Arthur's hair was soaked through with sweat, as was his tunic. He was mumbling under his breath and Merlin suspected he was experiencing vivid nightmares; a few times he called out frantically and sat bolt upright in bed. He wasn't awake and Merlin had easily laid him back down but it added to the helpless feeling.

Merlin began to pace. He wished Gaius was there to assure him this was normal and that Arthur was going to be okay. The sun began to rise over Camelot and Merlin opened the curtains and the windows for some fresh air. After what felt like a lifetime, the door to Arthur's chambers finally opened.

"You're late." Merlin said accusingly.

"Good morning to you, too, Merlin," Gaius answered. "How is Arthur?"

"Not good." Merlin answered. "See for yourself."

He led the physician to the bed and watched Gaius's reaction closely.

"The fever potion doesn't seem to be working, does it?" Gaius said, feeling Arthur's cheek.

"It certainly does not."

Gaius raised an eyebrow at Merlin, noticing his was chewing his thumb nail. He smiled discreetly before returning his attention to Arthur.

"Still no rash," he commented. "I must admit I'm surprised. I thought it would have appeared by now."

"Does that mean it's not the fever?"

Gaius shook his head.

"These things are very unpredictable and every case is, to some extent, unique."

"What are you saying?"

"I'm saying I still don't know what is making Arthur sick. It may be scarlet fever but it could be something else, mundane or otherwise."

"What does that mean?" Merlin was getting frustrated.

"It doesn't mean anything, Merlin. Arthur may have the fever, it may be stomach flu, or it may be something entirely different. I will know more as his illness progresses."

"But isn't there anything we can do? He's suffering, Gaius, and I feel helpless."

"I'll try a different combination of herbs to get the fever down," answered Gaius. "Something with a bit more potency might be what he needs. As long as he's asleep, he isn't throwing up so that's one thing working in his favour."

"What about the hallucinations?"

"They're harmless."

"Should I wake him up to eat?"

Gaius nodded.

"He won't like it but the stronger he keeps his body, the quicker he will recover."

"And continue with the compresses?"

"Absolutely. In addition to the potion for Arthur to take, I can make a potion which you can use as a sort of poultice for his forehead. It has limited success but it certainly can't hurt."

Merlin nodded to show he agreed.

"How are you feeling?" Gaius asked.

"What? Oh, me? I'm fine." Merlin answered hastily.

"Did you go back to sleep last night?"

"No."

Gaius sighed.

"I don't like you being so near to him all the time, Merlin. You're going to get sick this way, especially if you don't eat and keep up your strength."

"How am I supposed to take care of him without being near him? I can't let him die, Gaius, and if that means I get whatever he has as well, then so be it. It's a small price to pay."

Gaius smiled.

"He's lucky to have you."

"I don't have a choice. It's my destiny."

"It's your destiny to keep Arthur from dying but it _is_ your choice to care about him like you do."

Merlin shrugged.

"He's my friend. I'd do the same for Gwen and they – or at least she – would do the same for me."

"They both would, I am certain of it," Gaius said, patting Merlin on the back. "I'll send the potions as soon as they're ready and please try to get some rest, you look exhausted. And eat something," Gaius added.

Merlin smiled.

"Thanks, Gaius."

"Send for me if anything changes."

"I will."

Merlin walked the physician to the door and returned to Arthur's bedside. He peeled the compress from his forehead and dunked it in the basin of water. Wringing it out, Merlin again began tending the fever, singing a song under his breath absent-mindedly.

"What are you doing?" a voice asked while his back was turned, wetting the cloth for the umpteenth time. Merlin spun around and saw Arthur's eyes open.

"You're awake," he said, grinning.

"Keen observation, Merlin," quipped Arthur. "But you didn't answer my question. What were you doing?"

Merlin looked confused.

"Tending your fever," he said. "Is there something wrong with that?"

"No, not that. I heard you."

"Heard me what?"

"You were _singing_ to me."

"Was I?"

Arthur raised an eyebrow.

"Didn't you know?"

"No, sire. I must've been doing it without realizing."

"Right." Arthur muttered, stretching and then groaning. "I feel terrible," he complained. "Can't Gaius give me something to make this all, I don't know, go away?"

Merlin shook his head.

"How's your stomach? Do you feel like you're going to be sick?"

A haze clouded over Arthur's eyes and his face went a shade paler.

"Not until you reminded me of my miserable night."

"Shall I get the bin?"

"Probably best," Arthur muttered, sitting up and putting the back of his hand against his mouth, trying to tame the nausea. The basin wasn't far and Merlin didn't even have to get up to retrieve it.

"Thanks," Arthur said, taking it and setting it beside him.

"Don't mention it," Merlin answered. "Do you want some of the stomach potion?"

Arthur nodded, his eyes lighting up briefly at the thought of relief.

"Yes," he said. "Maybe if I take it before I start being sick, I'll manage to avoid it all together."

Merlin got up and fetched it from the table where he had put it the night before. He read the label and added the proper amount into a cup of water.

"Here," Merlin said, handing the goblet to Arthur. Arthur swallowed it and took a deep breath.

"It may take a few minutes to work," cautioned Merlin, stacking pillows so Arthur could lean back.

"I'll manage. Has Gaius been this morning?"

Merlin nodded.

"Well?"

"It's not good news, I'm afraid. As there's still no rash, he's not sure what's making you ill. He said to keep treating the vomiting,"

"Don't say that word," interrupted Arthur, who was fighting very hard not to be sick so the potion could work.

"Sorry. He said to keep treating your stomach, the fever, and the pain as best I can until he knows for certain what's ailing you."

Arthur groaned and pulled one of his pillows over his face.

"If it was anyone but Gaius, I'd have him put in the stocks for saying that," he complained.

"Gaius is going to make some stronger potions for you," Merlin informed him. "So you should start feeling better."

"Potions for what?"

"Your fever," answered Merlin. "We can't seem to keep your temperature down. I've been up half the night tending to it with nothing to show for it."

"You've got bags under yours eyes," Arthur replied, lowering the pillow and hugging it against his stomach.

"Like I just said, I've been up half the night looking after you."

"Yes, but you said you have nothing to show for it. You're wrong; you've got the bags under your eyes."

Arthur sighed.

"I don't know why you're complaining," he continued. "You're not the one who feels close to death."

"That's not funny." Merlin said seriously and Arthur managed a smile.

"Relax, Merlin. I know I complain a lot but I'm not actually going to die from this."

"Oh, really? Do you remember wanting to leave Camelot last night? You told me to have the horses ready at dawn."

"I did?"

"Yes," Merlin answered. "You also fell out of bed."

"I _what_?"

"You fell out of your bed and onto the floor in one big heap. You were on your hands and knees and everything."

"I was not."

"You were," Merlin insisted. "You were also rambling on about your mother, Morgana, and Uther. You said Uther wanted to you die searching for Morgana and that we needed to leave at first light."

Arthur was dumbfounded.

"I don't remember any of this," he said. "You're making it up."

"I am not!" Merlin protested.

"How did you stop me from leaving?" challenged Arthur. "How did you get me back into bed?"

"How many times do I have to tell you? I'm stronger than I look."

"As many times as it takes for me to believe you," Arthur shot back.

"If you must know," Merlin said. "I tricked you into drinking another sleeping draught and then lifted you into bed."

"You lifted me?"

"Yes." Merlin said in an annoyed tone. "Do you have any idea how many times you've gotten injured and I've had to move you? I can do it easily."

"Easily?" Arthur challenged. "I'd like to see you try."

"Shame, there's no place to go." Merlin said and then quickly changed the subject because the truth of the matter was that he had barely managed the night before. He didn't want Arthur pushing the subject any further or else Arthur would have him giving piggy-back rides around the chamber to prove his strength. "You really don't remember anything about last night?"

"No. You said I mentioned my mother and Morgana?"

Merlin nodded.

"Gaius said they were hallucinations, completely harmless."

"Great," muttered Arthur.

"Side effects of the fever," Merlin added. "Which," he continued. "Seems to have dropped a bit since Gaius was here. You're much more alert than you were last night."

He pressed his hand against Arthur's forehead. Surprisingly, the prince didn't swat it away.

"It is down," Merlin said. "That's a good sign."

"I'll take your word for it. It'll just go up again soon."

"Maybe not," Merlin replied, trying to sound cheerful. "How about washing and putting on some clean clothes while you're feeling more awake?"

Arthur nodded and Merlin prepared a bowl of warm, soapy water.

"Do you want to wash behind the screen?" Merlin asked. "Or in bed?"

"I can manage behind the screens," Arthur answered and Merlin brought the bowl and cloth to the small table in the corner. While he was fetching Arthur some clean clothes, Arthur started moving slowly out of bed. He was amazed – and annoyed – by how much one day of this illness had taken out of him and he was trembling by the time he made it behind the screen.

"Are you okay?" Merlin asked uncertainly.

"Perfectly fine," Arthur answered, shooing Merlin away. He was determined to do this himself but he got no further than trying to take off his sweat-soaked tunic.

"Merlin!" he shouted angrily. His manservant appeared.

"I … I need help," he said. To his credit, Merlin didn't even raise an eyebrow. Instead, he nodded and helped Arthur take the tunic off.

"Not a word to anyone about this," Arthur threatened.

"Of course not," Merlin said, not at all intimidated. Without waiting, he picked up the cloth and wiped Arthur's back before handing it to the prince to do his front. He helped Arthur redress and then back to bed.

"Comfy?" he asked and Arthur nodded.

"As much as I can be."

Merlin nodded and turned to take care of the used basin and soiled tunic.

"Merlin …" Arthur's voice trailed off uncomfortably as it always did when he was about to issue a compliment or note of thanks towards his servant.

"It's okay," Merlin said quietly.

"… Right." Arthur nodded firmly and leaned back against his pillow. Merlin was almost finished tidying when there was a knock at the door. Merlin hurried over and collected their breakfast.

"Look," Merlin said brightly, setting another tureen on the table. "Porridge."

"No way." Arthur refused. "Not a chance."

Merlin sighed.

"Come on, Arthur, even you can't be this stupid. Eating a hearty meal will give your body the strength to get better. The worst that happens is you throw up."

"Easy for you to say," Arthur complained.

"It's not easy for me to say," Merlin replied. "I don't even like porridge but it's all we've got."

He brought two bowls to the bed and handed one to Arthur. Arthur grimaced at the mere sight of it but picked up the spoon.

"Together," Merlin said. "One, two, three."

They put the spoons in their mouths and so it went for most of breakfast. Arthur stopped after about six mouthfuls but Merlin, heeding Gaius's words, managed a bit more.

"Well done," said Merlin, stacking the bowls and taking them back to the table. "How …"

His voice trailed off, remembering what had happened earlier and realizing he probably shouldn't ask the question. Instead, he clapped his hands together.

"Well," he said. "What shall we do?"

Arthur raised an eyebrow at Merlin.

"I'm going back to sleep," he said, removing the extra pillows. He threw one at Merlin, who miraculously caught it.

"I must be sicker than I thought," Arthur muttered. "Or you've become a really good catch."

"I've had lots of practice," Merlin answered dryly.

"Go to sleep, Merlin."

It didn't take long for Arthur to be snoring again and Merlin felt his forehead without waking Arthur up – it was a skill he was rapidly honing. The fever was still lower than it had been and Merlin felt comfortable enough leaving the compress on Arthur's brow and lying down on his own cot again.

* * *

A sharp rap woke Merlin and he stumbled over to open the door.

"Compliments of Gaius," the delivery boy said and Merlin thanked him before closing the door again. He looked at the two bottles he had taken in his hand and realized they were the fever draughts.

He was reading the label of the poultice mix as he was walking to Arthur's bed.

"Arthur," he said, eyes still on the small piece of parchment. "Wake up."

He lowered the phial and then nearly dropped it.

"Arthur!" he exclaimed. He shook Arthur's shoulder and the prince grumbled.

"What?" he demanded.

"Your face, your hands, your _skin_ …"

"What are you talking about?" Arthur asked, sitting up. "My skin is -"

He stopped when he held up his hand and his eyes grew wide. His hand was covered in a rough, red rash that continued underneath the sleeve. Arthur looked at Merlin and the warlock met his gaze.

"Don't panic," Merlin said, fighting to control his voice. "I'll send for Gaius."

 **Reviews are always appreciated, thanks!**


	5. A Lapse in Judgement

**Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin.**

 **Alright, I admit I struggled with this one for a long time. I don't know if I lost the urge, lost the plot, or lost my mind but after a fierce writing battle, here it is. I'm sorry for the wait but thank you, as always, for your patience and encouragement! Enjoy =)**

Prince Arthur was once again shirtless and sitting on the edge of his bed as Gaius inspected the quickly-spreading rash with his magnifier.

"Well, Sire," Gaius said, straightening up. "The good news is that this is indeed the rash I would expect to see from scarlet fever."

"Is there better news?" asked Arthur, struggling to see the good part of Gaius's words and the physician smiled sympathetically.

"It means that from this point on, the disease should be much easier to predict. Your fever should break on the sixth day and then the rash will begin to peel."

"Something to look forward to," muttered Arthur. "What day am I on now?"

"You're almost through your second day."

"You mean to tell me I've only been ill for two days? It's felt like _months_."

"I'm sorry, Sire," Gaius said. "But Merlin will continue to do everything possible to make you comfortable and of course, I am at your service whenever you need me."

"Thank you, Gaius," Arthur answered and Gaius gave Merlin a firm nod before leaving the chamber.

"Well, that's good news," Merlin said cheerfully, turning back to Arthur. "How about some soup to celebrate?"

"Shut up, Merlin," Arthur muttered, falling down across the bed diagonally without bothering to put his shirt back on.

"Sorry," apologized the servant. "I know you feel terrible and I wish I could be of more help."

Arthur sighed.

"No, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have snapped at you. I'm just …"

"Bad at being sick?"

"Yes," Arthur conceded. "I'm not good at doing nothing, I'm terrible at feeling incapable, and I hate that I can't eat anything and keep it down. I love eating."

"I know," Merlin answered. "But it will pass, I promise it will."

"After another four days, according to Gaius."

"Gaius can be wrong," Merlin suggested tentatively but Arthur merely snorted.

"Tell me the last time he was."

Merlin stayed silent for a moment.

"Exactly," Arthur continued. "Another four days like this might be enough for me to fall on my own sword, Merlin."

"It won't be so bad. Gaius sent over the mixture to make the fever poultice," he added. "Do you want to try it?"

Arthur shook his head.

"Not now," he said. "I'm going back to sleep, you should do the same."

"I'm fine."

"Merlin."

"Really, I slept for a few hours this afternoon. You sleep; I'll be here if you need anything."

Arthur sighed and rolled onto his stomach, pulling his pillow towards himself. It didn't take very long for him to fall asleep and Merlin tidied up his own bed and did a survey of all the medical supplies he'd acquired from Gaius. After checking on Arthur, who was snoring loudly, Merlin decided to wash and felt much more refreshed once he was in a fresh change of clothes.

By that point, evening was falling and Merlin lit the candles and built up the fire. When there was a knock on the door, he hurried over and opened it.

"Gwen!" he exclaimed. "I'm so happy to see you."

Gwen smiled.

"How are you doing?"

"I'm fine," he answered. "Though Arthur is suffering a bit."

"Has his stomach settled? Gaius told me," she added when Merlin's brow furrowed in confusion.

"It has right now," Merlin said. "But he hasn't eaten anything."

"Maybe you can convince him with this," Gwen held out the tray. "It's his favourite soup and I've brewed him a pot of tea using my secret recipe."

"Secret recipe?" Merlin asked.

"It's been in my family for years," Gwen explained. "My mum used to make it when I or anyone in Sir Leon's household fell sick. It never fails to cure an ill."

Merlin smiled.

"I'll be sure to give it to him," he said, taking the tray. He brought it to the table and set it down, returning to the door with the tray of used dishes.

"I wish you could come in a keep us company," he said, passing the tray to Gwen. "I'm bored and I'm sure Arthur would love to be visited by you."

"Merlin!" hissed Gwen. "Keep your voice down!"

"Sorry," Merlin said with a teasing smile.

"I'll come back later to collect the dishes," she said curtly and loud enough for the guards to hear, as if this proved their conversation was entirely appropriate.

"Thanks, Gwen."

"Tell Arthur I hope he feels better soon."

"I will," Merlin answered, closing the door. The loud click of the latch roused Arthur.

"Who's there?" he mumbled.

"No one," Merlin answered. "It's still just me. Gwen was bringing us supper."

"Gwen?" Arthur asked, sitting up slowly.

"Yes. She made you some special tea."

"She did?"

Merlin nodded.

"Do you want some?"

"Yes."

Merlin was pretty sure that the fact it was made by Gwen was the only reason Arthur was willing to drink anything but it didn't matter. Arthur needed the fluids and he was offering to take them on his own free will; that was good enough for Merlin. The tea had a bitter, pungent odor and a murky look about it when Merlin poured it into the mug but he filled the cup and brought it to Arthur.

"It's hot," he cautioned as Arthur sipped it. From the expression on his face, Merlin suspected the tea tasted about as good as it smelled.

"What did Gwen say about this tea?"

"Apparently the recipe has been in her family for years," Merlin said. "She said it could cure any ill. Her mother used to make it for her."

Arthur raised an eyebrow and sipped it again.

"A cure for any ill?"

"So she said … why? What does it taste like?"

"I'm not sure." Arthur answered. "It has a weird texture."

" _Texture_?" Merlin repeated. "It's a liquid; how can it have a texture?"

"I don't know, it just does."

"But what does it taste like?"

"It's alright … you've made far worse."

Merlin rolled his eyes.

"How about some soup to go with it?"

"Do I have a choice?"

"What if I said no?" Merlin challenged, returning to the table.

"Fine." Arthur gave in. "But only because there's no point in doing one without the other, _not_ because you think I have to do everything you say right now."

"No, of course not," Merlin answered, a small smile on his face. "The all or nothing approach is a good one. Either both will stay down or both will come up. It's a perfectly valid reason to try some soup."

He was taunting Arthur and he knew it but he hoped the banter would lift Arthur's spirits. Merlin finished serving the food.

"Do you want to sit at the table or eat in bed?" he asked.

"Table," Arthur answered. "Staying in bed all the time makes me feel like an invalid."

He threw back the covers and got up slowly, shrugging a shirt on first. Merlin silently watched as he regained a bit of flush in his cheeks after the initial rise and Arthur crossed the room better than the warlock expected. He wasn't swaying from side to side at least.

"Well done," Merlin commented. "Here you are, it's your favourite."

Despite this, and even though the soup looked and smelled delicious, the prince beheld his bowl unenthusiastically.

"You can do it," Merlin said encouragingly and Arthur glared at him.

"I'm not a child," he muttered. "I know I can do it."

Merlin didn't answer and watched Arthur's mental battle to eat. It took a lot of concentration but Arthur was pleasantly surprised. Once he got the first few bites down, it became easier and he finished the serving.

"Do you want more?" Merlin asked and Arthur nodded.

"Better to get it all down at once," he said, moving his spoon so Merlin could refill the bowl.

"I'm impressed," Merlin said once that serving was also gone. "How do you feel?"

"Pretty good, actually," Arthur answered. "At least I don't think I'm going to be sick."

"That's promising."

Arthur sighed.

"What is it?"

"I'm bored."

"Tired of sleeping?" Merlin teased, clearing the dishes. "Maybe Gwen's tea worked after all."

"Maybe," Arthur echoed. "I can't remember the last time I didn't have something to do."

"Neither can I," Merlin said under his breath and Arthur looked up at him with a raised eyebrow.

"I can remember the last time you did nothing."

Merlin rolled his eyes.

"That'd be a bit hard, I imagine, as I'm always doing something. If not for you, I'm doing chores for Gaius."

"Poor Merlin," Arthur said, batting his eyelashes at his servant. "Are you tired out from working so hard?"

"No, I'm tired from keeping you alive." Merlin snapped. "Are you finished, _Sire_ , or can I get you anything else?"

Arthur was taken aback by Merlin's sharp tone but he shook his head.

"No … maybe I'll lie down after all."

Merlin moved around the table to help Arthur but the prince waved him off.

"I've got it."

Merlin nodded, feeling guilty, and watched Arthur cross the room and fall into his bed. The prince turned his back to Merlin so the servant ate his own supper before stacking the dishes on the tray. He glanced at Arthur again and sighed. He looked out the window and saw the moon rising over Camelot.

Merlin filled the kettle with water and left it over the fire before going to Arthur's desk. He mixed together the potions Gaius had prescribed – the stomach soother, the pain draught, the throat remedy, and the fever reducer – into a goblet with a few inches of water. By then the water in the kettle was hot and Merlin carefully poured it into a basin and gingerly carried it to the bedside table.

"Arthur," he said, stirring in the herbs for the fever poultice. Arthur's eyes opened immediately.

"You don't really think I've been asleep, do you? You're angry at me."

"That's never stopped you before," Merlin answered. "I have your evening potion ready. It should help you sleep and hopefully you'll feel better in the morning."

Arthur frowned.

"Why are you doing this?"

Merlin sighed exasperatedly.

"Doing what?"

" _This_. Taking care of me, making my potions up."

"I'm your servant, this is my job."

"But you're angry."

"I'm not angry. I just wish you would sometimes realize I'm not the lazy oaf you think I am. I work hard and I'm not ashamed of it."

Arthur sighed.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I shouldn't have teased you. I should be thanking you for putting up with me while I'm ill. I know it can't be easy."

"You're right," Merlin replied. "It isn't. I've seen corpses be better patients than you. Come on, drink your potion."

Merlin handed the cup to Arthur, who swallowed it.

"Ugh," he said, making a face. "What was in that? Did you do something to make it taste awful?"

"Of course not," Merlin answered.

"What's that?" Arthur asked, nodding towards the steaming basin.

"The fever poultice," Merlin replied. "Once you fall asleep, I'll apply them and tend them throughout the night."

"Aren't you going to sleep?"

"I'll be fine."

Merlin was busy stirring the hot water and herbs and was surprised when Arthur's strong hand closed around his wrist.

"Merlin. Draw the curtains and go to bed. Sleep tonight. Nothing will change, I promise."

"You can't make that promise."

"What's the worst that happens? I throw up? My temperature rises? I can deal with those things on my own. I know you can't leave the chamber but consider it a night off."

"I can't do that, Arthur. Uther would have my head if he knew. So would Gaius, for that matter."

"Leave my father and Gaius to me. Just tell me what to do with this lot and then go."

Merlin sighed, knowing he wasn't going to be able to talk Arthur out of this.

"Just soak the compresses in it and then apply to your brow," Merlin said. "If you want, you can also drape them on your neck or chest."

"Okay." Arthur said. "Now go."

He shooed his servant away and Merlin hesitated with his hands on the drapes separating the bedchamber from the rest of the room.

"Close them," Arthur ordered and Merlin sighed.

"Call me if you need anything."

"Merlin."

"Your chamber pot is on the floor."

" _Merlin_."

"Fine. Goodnight, Arthur."

Merlin pulled the curtains closed and sighed. He wasn't in the mood to speak with anyone so he left the tray of dishes outside with the guards – he would apologize to Gwen tomorrow – and fell onto his cot. He was exhausted but his mind was racing. How had this argument happened? He hadn't been angry at Arthur and had actually been happy to see the prince's appetite return for their supper. Arthur always teased him about being lazy so what had caused him to snap this time?

Merlin didn't know but his exhaustion took over quickly and soon he was asleep.

* * *

Contrary to what Merlin thought, Arthur managed to get himself settled for the night without too much trouble and soon fell asleep. For several hours the chamber was quiet as both master and servant slept but the peace was not to last.

It was the middle of the night when Merlin woke up to the sounds of Arthur's incoherent mumbling. He threw back his covers and pushed the drapes aside.

"Arthur!" he exclaimed, hurrying over to the prince. Even in the flickering candlelight, his skin was shining with sweat and the rash was angry and red. Arthur had shed his tunic again and Merlin peeled back the compresses from Arthur's forehead, neck, and chest and his eyes grew wide at what he saw. The skin where they had been sitting was even more irritated and it was blistering.

"Arthur!" Merlin exclaimed again.

Merlin pressed his hand against Arthur's cheek and groaned.

"Come on, wake up," he said, looking around the room for the water pitcher. "Strangath," he muttered and it came zooming towards him. He didn't bother with a basin but instead found his last clean handkerchief – he made a mental note to ask Gaius for more, or send the soiled ones to be washed – and dunked it into the pitcher. He wrung it out, applied it to Arthur's cheek, and sponged around his jaw.

"Arthur, wake up!" he said loudly.

Arthur's eyes flew open and his chest was heaving in surprise. He looked around, paranoid, and his eyes fell on Merlin.

"You really need to stop waking me up like this," he muttered before groaning. He tried to sit up but gasped in pain and saw his blistered chest. "What happened?"

"I don't know," Merlin said. "Does it hurt?"

"What do you think? Look at it! Of course it hurt!"

"Okay, um, just relax."

" _Relax_?! Merlin, what is wrong with me?"

"I don't know. Try not to panic and – "

"Try not to _panic_? Merlin, are you _blind_?"

"No, I can see it but you need to calm down. Lie back and take a few deep breaths."

Arthur did as Merlin said, mostly because he couldn't sit up any longer.

"Does the cold cloth make it better or worse?" Merlin asked, pressing the compress to Arthur's cheek again.

"Better," Arthur mumbled.

"Right," Merlin said decisively. He hurried to the wardrobe and found one of Arthur's towels and ripped it into pieces.

"What are you doing? Do you have any idea how expensive those are? They're _imported_."

"Do you have any idea how much like a girl you sound? There are more pressing matters." Merlin said, dipping each piece into the pitcher.

"You mean like putting you in the stocks?"

"Quarantine," Merlin reminded him.

"I'll have the stocks brought in here and I'll throw the rotten food at you myself for doing this to me."

"I didn't do anything," Merlin replied. Having finished applying the towels to most of Arthur's shoulders and chest, he gingerly began dabbing at the blistered area on the forehead.

"Ouch, stop!" Arthur exclaimed. Merlin frowned.

"The blisters are only where the fever poultices were," he said, searching for the label Gaius had written. "'Mix the herbs into boiling water and stir well. Let sit until cool, soak compress, and apply.'" Merlin looked at Arthur. "Did you do as I told you?"

"You never told me they had to be cool."

Merlin tossed the label onto the table and rolled his eyes.

"Are you telling me you placed burning hot compresses on yourself?"

"They weren't burning hot," Arthur said defensively. "They were hot but I managed it. Why didn't you say it needed to be cool?"

"Because I didn't think you were stupid enough to place hot pieces of cloth on your skin when you have a _fever_ , especially when they were supposed to be _treating_ it."

"I'm not a physician, Merlin, how was I supposed to know?"

"Common sense would be a start," Merlin answered. "I'd better send for Gaius."

He grimaced.

"Gaius is going to kill me for letting you take care of yourself. So is your father, for that matter. Why did I ever listen to you?"

He didn't give Arthur the chance to respond and went to the door, opened it, and sent one of the guards to fetch Gaius. The physician, again clad in nightgown, was in the room a few moments later.

"What happened?" he demanded, taking one look at the burns on Arthur's chest, neck, and face before rounding on Merlin. "What did you do?"

"He didn't do anything," Arthur spoke up. "I applied the compresses but I didn't wait until they were cool."

Gaius sent a look at Merlin which clearly said he wasn't finished with the young sorcerer and turned to the prince.

"How bad is the pain?"

"I've felt worse," Arthur replied. "But it's certainly up there."

Gaius examined the areas as gently as he could but even his touch made Arthur hiss in pain.

"What is it?" Merlin asked and Gaius frowned.

"By applying a hot poultice with these specific herbs, it created a very potent substance which has essentially burned Arthur's skin."

"Can you treat it?"

"I can make a salve for the affected areas but I'm afraid that is all. The potion I sent over for the pain should help with the discomfort. Merlin, what were you thinking?!"

"I already told you," Arthur spoke up again. "I applied them, not Merlin."

"With all due respect, Sire, but Merlin should have been the one to prepare them and even if he had a lapse in judgement and let you do it, he should have shown you the instructions I included."

"I'm sorry," Merlin said quietly. "I assumed –"

"And there's the problem. I expected you to think, Merlin, not assume. Physicians never assume anything."

Gaius sighed.

"I'd better go get started on that salve," he said. "Keep tending his fever, he's burning up again."

"I will." Merlin answered, still quiet. He hated being reprimanded by Gaius but the worst part was that he knew he deserved it. The physician left the room, huffing as he did so, and Merlin winced as the door closed in a firm fashion.

"Merlin," Arthur said instantly.

"Don't, please." Merlin replied. "Don't feel sorry for me, don't apologize. Just try to keep still and rest. I'll prepare your potions."

Arthur sighed and did as Merlin said – he knew Merlin well enough to know he wasn't going to get to the boy to listen right now. He watched, feeling guilty, as Merlin asked the guards for more fresh water, washed out the basin with the poultice mix, fill it with clean water, and replace the compresses. His hands were swift as they mixed the pain and fever potion and Merlin avoided eye contact when he gave Arthur the goblet.

Arthur sighed but drank it all.

"Would it be useless to tell you to go back to sleep?" he asked and Merlin nodded.

"I'm not going anywhere. Close your eyes," he added. "You look exhausted."

Arthur desperately wanted to apologize but he simply sighed and nodded. The potions and fever made him fall asleep quickly and Merlin sat on the other side of the bed, leaning against the bed post. He sighed.

What _had_ he been thinking, letting Arthur take care of himself? Sure, the man was competent with a sword and knew battle strategies like the back of his own hand but _nursing_ , and worse, _nursing himself_? Merlin had a lot of respect for Arthur but was he really that much of an idiot to apply a hot compress? Why hadn't he taken it off when it started burning?

Merlin knew that Gaius would eventually forgive him and Arthur already had already made it clear that he felt bad about what had happened. He'd spoken up to Gaius twice and had tried to apologize – Merlin assumed he was going to apologize; his voice had that tone, at least – but it didn't matter because Merlin knew he was to blame.

He watched Arthur sleep, the blisters shining in the candlelight as they became laced with sweat from the fever. He could make this better, he knew he could. Gaius had said that healing spells were tricky but Merlin had done them before and he knew he could make them work now.

Arthur's eyebrows furrowed in his sleep and a low groan left his lips. It hurt Merlin to hear and know he was the cause for Arthur's pain. His mind made up, Merlin got up and went to Arthur's side.

He closed his eyes and searched deep inside himself, stretched his hand out and said the incantation.

The last thing he remembered was Arthur screaming – or maybe it was him – and a searing pain in his chest. After that, everything went dark as he collapsed onto the floor.

 **Cliffie! Reviews are very appreciated, thanks!**


	6. I Wouldn't be Anywhere Else

**Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin.**

 **Hi everyone! Thank you SO much for such an amazing response to the last chapter and I'm sorry I haven't answered the reviews as I normally do. I just returned to school after having to take a term off for medical reasons and I figured I'd spend my now-limited free time writing another chapter instead of answering reviews (poor thanks for kind words, I know, but I hope you understand!). Please enjoy =)**

The guards outside the door heard the scream and looked at each other.

"What should we do?" one asked. The other shrugged.

"Do you think we ought to send for Gaius?"

The other guard shrugged again but the inquisitive guard turned around and banged on the door with his fist.

"Sire?" he called. "Merlin?"

There was no response and he pounded on the door again.

"Prince Arthur!" he yelled. "Merlin! Open up!"

When met with silence for a second time, he turned to his companion.

"I'm going to fetch Gaius. Mind the doors."

* * *

Arthur was first roused by the scream but he didn't begin to fully wake until he heard banging on the door and a male voice calling, though he couldn't make out what was being said.

"Merlin," he groaned, trying to turn over without causing cascades of pain to emanate from his burned chest and neck. "Merlin," he repeated.

When he did not hear his servant's pathetic apologies, the door opening, or even a cool compress on his cheek, Arthur forced his eyes open.

"Merlin," he complained. "Someone's at the door."

Still his servant didn't do anything and Arthur sat up.

" _Merlin_!" he yelled, angry that he was forced from his semi-comfortable position. He looked around the room but didn't see Merlin anywhere. As he became more alter, however, his senses were beginning to heighten and he could hear a steady rhythmic beat. It sounded like it was coming from beneath his bed.

With reflexes much slower than normal, Arthur removed a dagger from its sheath – he always slept with one stuck between the headboard and mattress – and silently turned down his covers. He leapt out of bed and swayed on the spot, silently cursing as the pain in his chest and neck swelled with the movement. He looked down but there was nothing at his feet but he could still hear the noise.

Creeping as best he could, Arthur slowly made his way around the foot of the bed and nearly dropped his dagger in surprise when he peered to the other side, fully ready to pounce on whatever was there.

"Merlin!" he exclaimed. The young warlock was lying unconscious on the floor, trembling from head to foot. His left boot was hitting the bedpost, making the noise. Though disoriented himself with fever, Arthur could see sweat pouring off Merlin's face.

The prince didn't know what to do; he wasn't a physician, nor was he in any state to being taking care of anyone. He doubted if he could even kneel down without falling over.

He was still standing over Merlin when the doors to his chambers burst open.

"Gaius!" he exclaimed.

"The guards heard a scream. Are you alright? Where is Merlin?"

"Down here."

The physician hurried over, his bag tucked under his arm.

"What happened?" he asked, kneeling beside Merlin and hiding the shock of seeing the boy in such a state.

"I don't know," Arthur answered. "I found him like this. What can I do?"

"Go back to bed, Sire," said Gaius, not even looking at Arthur.

"I must be able to do something to help. What's wrong with him?"

"Arthur, you are in no condition to do anything but rest. Please go back to bed."

As much as Arthur wanted to protest, he knew Gaius was right and, rather than step over Merlin, he made his way to the other side of his bed and fell into it. He instantly regretted this motion and spent the next minute or so tightly clutching one of his pillows waiting for the pain to subside.

"Merlin," Gaius said, shaking the boy's shoulder. "Merlin, can you hear me?"

There was no response and Gaius tried again, harder this time.

"Ow, stop it," Merlin groaned, his eyelids fluttering. Gaius breathed a sigh of relief.

"How do you feel?"

Merlin's eyes slowly opened and his eyebrows knit together in confusion.

"What happened?" he asked. "Why am I on the floor?"

"The guards said they heard a scream," Gaius explained. "Do you remember who or what caused the noise?"

Merlin licked at his dry lips and his hand travelled up to his chest.

"I think it was me," he said slowly.

"What happened?" Gaius asked but Merlin shook his head, not wanting to say it was because he'd used magic; after all, Arthur was right there and Merlin had no way of being sure he was still soundly asleep. It was a good thing he didn't say anything, as it was Arthur who spoke next.

"Speak up, Merlin," Arthur had managed to work through his discomfort and was intent on staying awake long enough to find out what had happened. "Did someone come into the room? Did someone attack you?"

"No," Merlin answered, sitting up slowly and moving his hand from his chest to his head. "I saw a rat."

"And you were so scared you passed out? Honestly, Merlin, you are such a _girl_."

"I didn't pass out because of the rat," Merlin said grumpily. Once again, he had tried to help Arthur – unsuccessfully, mind, but it was the thought that counted – and this was the thanks he got.

"I wasn't feeling well before I saw the rat and I suppose it startled me. I lost my balance and hit my head on the bed when I fell."

"You're such a klutz," Arthur said half-heartedly and even Merlin could tell that he said it simply to have the last word and not because he believed it. Rather, concern was lacing the tiredness in his voice.

"No matter," Gaius said evenly. "Let's get you to bed and I'll take a look."

The physician slowly helped Merlin to his feet and supported most of his weight as they crossed the room. Merlin collapsed onto his cot much like Arthur had his bed and his eyes closed almost instantly.

"Stay awake, Merlin," Gaius said, pulling a chair over. "You said you weren't feeling well before. What was hurting?"

Merlin shook his head.

"There was no rat," he said quietly to ensure Arthur didn't hear his confession.

"Then why did you scream?"

"I tried to heal Arthur using magic," he mumbled, struggling to keep his eyes open. "I'm sorry, Gaius."

Gaius sighed deeply.

"Don't worry about that now – I'll lecture you later. For now, I need to know exactly what happened."

Merlin recounted his actions and Gaius listened carefully and then pressed his hand against Merlin's forehead.

"Well, you've certainly got a fever," he said. "Can you manage to take off your shirt?"

Merlin sat up and struggled to get the tunic over his head and only managed with help from Gaius.

"No rash," Gaius announced. "And no burns, you should be thankful for that."

"What happened? Why didn't the magic work?"

"As I believe I told you already, healing spells for natural illnesses are much more complex than the ones you'd use to heal an injury. If not done exactly right, the spell can rebound and infect the one who cast it."

"But you said I don't have a rash."

"Which means either your magic is powerful enough to protect you against at least part of a rebounding curse," Gaius answered. "Or it might mean you performed the spell with some degree of accuracy and it only partially rebounded."

"Does that mean I won't get the rash or any other symptoms?"

"I don't know." Gaius admitted. "But for now, you need to rest and stay hydrated. I'll mix you some of the fever reducer."

Merlin's eyes were already drifting closed as Gaius pushed his chair back and went to the desk.

"Is he okay?" Arthur mumbled as Gaius held up bottles, reading their labels. He turned around and smiled at Arthur.

"Merlin will be fine," he answered. "It appears he has caught scarlet fever but I'll take good care of him."

Arthur muttered something unintelligible in response and Gaius turned back to the desk. He made up the potion and brought it to Merlin. As soon as the potion was drunk, Merlin was asleep and Gaius sighed. He thought back to the conversation he'd had with Uther when Arthur first fell sick.

* * *

"Excuse me, Sire," Gaius bowed when he stopped at the end of the council table.

"What is it, Gaius?" The King didn't look up from his papers.

"I am sorry to tell you this, Sire, but Prince Arthur has fallen ill."

Uther looked up, his pen still poised above the words he'd just been writing. The Knights around the room looked at each other, surprised.

"What's wrong with him?"

"I believe he has scarlet fever," Gaius said. "But I will not know for sure for at least a few days."

"What do you mean?"

"Arthur exhibits many symptoms of the fever but he does not have the accompanying rash. However, it is not uncommon for the rash not to appear until the second or third day."

"How serious is it, Gaius?"

"I will not say it isn't a serious disease," Gaius answered. "But Arthur is young and strong. I believe he will come through it fine."

"I will go to him at once," Uther said, standing.

"I'm afraid I cannot let you do that, Sire." Gaius said, blocking Uther's path.

"Nonsense," Uther answered. "He's my son; I will be at his bedside if I see fit."

"It's not that, your Majesty," Gaius insisted. "Scarlet fever is extremely prone to spreading. You have never had the disease and it would be much more severe should you contract it."

"What are you saying?"

"Arthur must be placed in quarantine."

"Who will tend him?"

"I will, with help from Merlin."

"If it is as contagious as you say, we cannot risk our physician getting sick."

"I have been exposed several times in past," Gaius said. "There is no chance of me getting sick from Arthur."

"Then we cannot risk you acting as a vector of transmission. You treat the Knights, servants, and townspeople on a daily basis. The last thing Camelot needs is an epidemic of scarlet fever."

"But what about Arthur?"

"Merlin will manage," Uther said.

"But he has not had the disease before, Sire. He will likely get sick from nursing Arthur."

"It is unfortunate but he is Arthur's servant; it is his job to tend to Arthur's needs."

Gaius, feeling bad for Merlin but knowing Merlin wouldn't have left Arthur's side anyways, nodded in resignation.

"As you wish, Sire. If it pleases you, I will check on Arthur twice daily but may I also suggest guards posted at the door? If there is something wrong, they can send for me at any time."

"Fine," Uther said. He looked at Sir Leon. "See that it's arranged."

"Yes, Sire," Leon said, hurrying from the hall.

"Keep me informed, Gaius."

Gaius nodded and bowed before following Leon out of the hallway.

"Arthur and Merlin will be okay, won't they?" Leon asked the physician. Gaius nodded.

"Don't worry," he said. "They'll both be fine."

"I grew up with Arthur," Leon couldn't hide the worry in his voice. "And I can remember one, maybe two, instances where he succumbed to an illness. It's so unlike him."

"No one can escape all ills, even if they are a prince."

"I suppose." Leon said. "I had better get the guard sorted."

* * *

Gaius could still perfectly picture Leon's red cloak billowing out behind him as he watched Merlin's chest rise and fall in the fever-induced sleep. He wondered who was going to tend Arthur now – and, incidentally, Merlin. Ideally he would be the one to keep an eye on the boys, especially Merlin as his disease course was unpredictable at best, but he knew Merlin getting sick would not change Uther's mind. The King would simply have another servant step in. Luckily, Gaius knew just the one.

* * *

"Gaius, I don't understand why I can't help," Gwen protested, following him down the hallway towards his chambers. "I always tend Arthur and Merlin when either of them is sick. The Lady Morgana as well."

"I know, Gwen," Gaius sighed, opening the door and setting his bag down on the nearest bench. "But it is out of my hands. Uther has forbidden anyone but me going in there. There are guards posted at the door."

"There must be something I can do," she said. "If I can't help them, I can help you. What do you need to send them?"

* * *

Thus Gwen had taken on the role of deliverer – everything from medicines to supplies to food – and she had been true to her word to help Gaius in whatever way he needed her.

The physician looked down at Merlin again and then over his shoulder at Arthur. They were both sleeping soundly and without a second thought, Gaius left the chamber.

"Listen closely in case one of them wakes," he told the guards. "And when Guinevere comes, let her in."

"But the King –"

"Leave Uther to me," Gaius said. "Just let Gwen in."

The guard nodded and Gaius hurried back to his chambers. It was quite late now but Gwen had been sleeping in Merlin's room ever since Arthur had gotten sick. She'd insisted, saying she wanted to be close by in case something happened during the night.

"Gwen?" Gaius called, opening the door to his and Merlin's home. The young woman appeared on the steps a moment later.

"Yes?" she asked. "Is everything okay?"

Gaius explained what had happened.

"I'll do it," Gwen said before Gaius had even asked her if she would tend their patients. "I'll head over there straightaway."

"The guards will let you in," Gaius told her. "I will go speak to Uther."

They both left the chamber and Gaius, after walking the long, dark hallways, knocked on Uther's door.

"Enter," the King called and Gaius bowed when he came in. Uther was looking out the window, a goblet of wine in his hand.

"Gaius," Uther said. "It's rather late for a social call. Is Arthur alright?"

"He is handling it all admirably, Sire," Gaius said and Uther smiled with pride, sipping from his cup.

"Then what is it?"

"I am sorry to say that Merlin has been taken ill."

"You feared that would happen."

"I did," Gaius acknowledged. "But there are more pressing matters at hand; chiefly, who is going to tend Arthur now?"

"I stand by what I said," replied Uther. "Especially as Merlin's case has proven that the disease is catching. I do not want you there any more than necessary."

"Of course, Sire," Gaius answered. "Guinevere has volunteered to nurse Arthur and Merlin until they recover."

"Lady Morgana's maid, was she not?"

"She was."

"Very well," Uther said. "Thank you, Gaius."

Gaius bowed and returned to Arthur's chambers. Gwen had already taken up the chair next to Merlin and was bathing his forehead.

"He's roasting," she murmured and Gaius nodded.

"Yes. I gave him the fever potion approximately half an hour ago but it may not be that effective. His course may be very different from Arthur's or he may have similar symptoms – the high fever, hallucinations, and upset stomach. We won't know until it happens but the main thing is to keep them comfortable and keep their fevers under control."

Gwen nodded.

"And Arthur needs a salve applied to his burns every three hours. I was working on it before the guards came. I'll bring it as soon as it's done."

Gwen nodded again.

"Do you have any questions?" asked Gaius.

"No." Gwen smiled at the physician. "Believe me; these hands are well versed in the art of care-taking."

"I'm sure they are," Gaius smiled back. "And I'm sure Arthur and Merlin will be glad to see you when they wake. I'd better get back to the salve and I'll send it with some more supplies – I noticed there are no more compresses and something tells me you'll need even more of them now."

"Thank you, Gaius. When I have a moment, I'll collect the soiled linens and cloths and send them to the laundry."

"No," Gaius said firmly. "It could spread the contagion."

"Fine," Gwen said, undaunted. "Then I will do them here. Can you bring soap with you, as well as more water?"

"I'll arrange for it to be sent. Don't forget – you can send for me at any hour."

"I know. I promise we will be fine."

"Thank you, Gwen," Gaius said, making for the door. Gwen sat down again and pressed the cloth to Merlin's forehead.

"I wouldn't be anywhere else," she said to her sleeping friend.

 **Please review and I'll update as soon as I can, thanks!**


	7. Lucky to Have Her

**Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin.**

 **Hello again! Thank you, as always, for your support and reviews and I hope you enjoy this chapter =)**

Night slowly turned to day and Gwen remained vigilant at Merlin's side, bathing his forehead and trying, to no avail, to keep his temperature under control. The sun was fully up when there was a knock on the door. Gwen accepted the tray of food and the jar the servant said was from Gaius.

"Thank you," she said, closing the door firmly.

Merlin was in no state to eat anything but Gwen decided to try and wake Arthur. He'd had a peaceful night and while he still had a fever, he had stayed asleep. Gwen had looked at the burns at some point during the night and they were an angry red. Blisters had formed and some of them were weeping a clear liquid tinged with blood. The jar that had been delivered with breakfast turned out to be the salve from Gaius – the note apologized for the delay but he had run out of fresh aloe leaves and couldn't fetch any till morning.

Filling a plate with light fruits, a few pieces of cheese, and a piece of bread, Gwen went over to the sleeping Arthur. She smiled gently down at him; she very rarely got to watch him sleep and he was usually ill or injured on the few occasions she had the opportunity. Even with the burns on his forehead and neck, she thought he looked handsome.

Gwen set the plate of food down on the bedside table and picked up the cloth from the washbasin. Sitting on the edge of the bed, she ran the cloth down Arthur's cheek gently.

"Arthur," she murmured.

Arthur thought he must be dreaming. Either that or his fever had gotten so high that he was seeing Gwen where Merlin normally was. He didn't mind, of course, Gwen was much prettier to behold than Merlin.

"Arthur," her sweet voice said again.

Arthur could feel the cool cloth being rubbed over the unburned parts of his face and chest. He smiled lazily.

"Feels nice," he murmured.

Gwen bit back a laugh.

"I'm glad," she said, smiling. "Do you think you can open your eyes?"

Still convinced this was a dream, Arthur opened his eyes, hoping beyond hope it would be Guinevere instead of Merlin. When it really was Gwen he saw, he blinked several times in confusion. Arthur pushed himself up quickly before yelling out in pain and collapsing against the headboard, his breathing escalated.

"What are you doing here?" he exclaimed, his hand grasping at the sheet to make sure he was fully covered. " _Merlin_!"

"Shh!" hissed Gwen, looking over her shoulder to see if Merlin had roused at all; he hadn't. "It's alright, calm down."

"You haven't answered my question. What are you doing here? We're in quarantine."

"What do you think? I'm here to look after you and Merlin now that he's ill."

"You shouldn't be here."

"Why not?"

Arthur's cold stare relaxed considerably.

"I don't want you catching this."

Gwen smiled at him.

"Don't worry about me," she said. "I've looked after my fair share of patients and I haven't caught anything yet."

"Guinevere," Arthur started but Gwen shook her head.

"I'm staying, Arthur, whether you like it or not so you had better just get used to the idea."

"Why can't Gaius stay?"

"Your father won't let him. He says Camelot can't risk a scarlet fever epidemic and given how many people Gaius sees in a day, he doesn't want to risk the infection spreading."

"He's the _physician_ , isn't that his job?"

Gwen shrugged.

"Uther does have a point," she said. "But it doesn't matter now. I've been here most of the night and I wouldn't be allowed to leave even if Gaius were allowed to look after you both."

Arthur sighed.

"Trust me," Gwen assured him. "I'll be fine."

She held up the jar from Gaius.

"This should help heal the burns," she added. "Do you want to put it on or shall I?"

"You had better, given I can't see my own forehead or neck."

Gwen laughed.

"Right," she said. She found a clean cloth from the stack that had been delivered along with fresh water shortly after Gaius had left. "This might hurt a little."

Arthur tried to smile charmingly.

"I'm tough," he said. "I can take it."

Gwen generously dabbed the cloth in the sweet-smelling lotion and began applying it to the burn on Arthur's chest. Arthur hissed but tried to smile through it. Gwen felt bad for him but continued her work.

"Sorry," she said, noticing that Arthur was no longer smiling and sweat beads had built up along his hairline. His hand was clenched tightly around the bedpost.

"It's fine," he mumbled. "Keep going."

Gwen finished applying the ointment, put the lid back on the jar, set it and the cloth on the table, and wiped her hands on her apron.

"There," she said. "You can relax now."

"What do you mean? I've been relaxed the whole time," Arthur scoffed. Gwen raised an eyebrow.

"You don't have to hide anything from me, Arthur. I know that was painful."

Arthur visibly deflated as though her words had been permission to show just how miserable he was.

"I brought you some breakfast," said Gwen, picking up the plate.

"No thanks."

"You need to eat something," protested the young woman. "What's the worst that could happen?"

"I really wish people would stop saying that," Arthur grumbled. "Merlin said the same thing."

"Sorry," apologized Gwen. "But honestly, having something in your stomach will make you feel better."

"I doubt it."

"Will you at least try? For me?"

Arthur couldn't help but smile.

"Alright, Guinevere, since you asked so nicely."

Gwen handed him the plate of food. Arthur wasn't the least bit hungry but he put the fruit in his mouth anyways and began to slowly chew.

"I'll mix up your potions," Gwen said, patting Arthur's leg through the sheets. "And you work on swallowing."

Arthur watched her walk to his desk, her skirts gently brushing against the floor. Gwen, well versed in mixing medicine by now, quickly made up the potions and brought the goblet to Arthur.

"Thank you," Arthur said, washing down his last bite with the liquid.

"You're welcome," Gwen answered, taking the empty goblet. "Had enough to eat?"

Arthur nodded and Gwen returned the dishes to the table before sitting on the edge of Arthur's bed again.

"How do you feel?" she asked.

"A bit better," he said. "It's nice having someone to talk to."

"You talked to Merlin."

"Someone who isn't Merlin." Arthur corrected.

"Be nice," Gwen scolded. "He does more for you than you realize."

"But he's _Merlin_. Half the time I think he's too much of an idiot to get anything done but he always manages to pull it all off. If it weren't against the law, I'd think he was using magic."

"Don't be ridiculous. Merlin works hard. Look at him now."

Arthur peered past Gwen's shoulder and snorted.

"Flat on his back," he said. "Useless position for a servant."

"The only reason he's there is because of you," Gwen pointed out in a cold tone. "He hasn't slept properly since the day you took ill and he's been nursing you around the clock."

"He has not," retorted Arthur.

"He has," Gwen insisted. "And he's been worried. He cares about you a great deal."

"Of course he does, I'm his employer. Without me, he's out of a job."

"You know what I mean," Gwen said sternly and Arthur sighed.

"Fine," he said. "Maybe he cares a little bit."

"And maybe so do you, a little bit."

"Now wait a minute!" Arthur exclaimed but a low groan from Merlin's cot made them both peer in his direction. Gwen didn't even wait for Arthur to continue but instead hurried to his side.

"Merlin?" she asked, studying his face. "Merlin, are you alright?"

Merlin groaned again and tried to roll over but seemed too weak to do so. Gwen laid her hand on his forehead.

"He's burning up," she said. Arthur wondered if she was speaking to him or merely to herself. Gwen reached for her basin of water and compress again and firmly held the cool cloth to Merlin's forehead.

"Shh," she soothed as Merlin groaned for a second time. "It's alright, I'm here."

She watched in concern as Merlin's chest rose and fell rapidly. She rewet the compress and then left it lying on his forehead while she mixed another draught of the fever potion.

Arthur watched with morbid fascination as Gwen lifted Merlin's head and slowly coaxed the liquid into his mouth. She had managed nearly the entire goblet when Merlin's hand rose and pushed it out of her hand and onto the floor.

"Merlin!" she exclaimed as the boy started coughing.

"He's going to be sick," Arthur commented but Gwen was already aware of this fact and in no time at all had a basin for him to vomit into. Arthur had to turn his head and fight to keep his own stomach contents where they belonged but Gwen was solely focused on Merlin.

"It's alright," she said quietly, smoothing back his hair absently. "You're okay."

Merlin wasn't okay, though. He continued to retch for the better part of an hour, though after a mere ten minutes he was only bringing up sparse amount of bile. Regardless, his body kept heaving in a violent manner.

"Maybe you should send for Gaius," Arthur suggested uncertainly.

"There's nothing Gaius can do," Gwen answered. "It just needs to get itself out of his system."

"There's nothing left _in_ his system," replied Arthur.

"I know, but it's just what has to happen. He'll be okay."

Arthur wasn't as convinced and watched with horror for another thirty minutes or so until finally Merlin's body seemed to calm down. He rolled onto his back and Arthur could see his chest heaving in the aftermath of the tremendous effort of throwing up for so long.

"Here," Gwen said, holding up a cup of water to Merlin's lips. Merlin shook his head and pushed it away.

"It will make your throat feel better. Just a tiny sip."

Gwen was glad that Arthur couldn't see the tears running down Merlin's cheeks – he likely wasn't even aware he was crying – and her heart ached to see her friend like this. Arthur could see the tears, though. At least, he could see the shiny lines streaking Merlin's face and he began to feel ashamed of what he had said.

"Good," Gwen said encouragingly when she finally got some water into Merlin. Merlin's eyes were closed again and Gwen felt his forehead. Obviously the potion had had very little effect given the limited time it was in Merlin's stomach and his fever was still high enough for Gwen to be worried about it.

"Why not try the fever poultices?" Arthur asked and Gwen looked towards the prince.

"What?"

"The fever poultices," repeated Arthur. "There's still some of the mix Gaius made up for me. They may help Merlin, as he can't seem to keep anything down."

"Good idea," Gwen said, glancing back at Merlin. He was pale and perspiration was evident to the naked eye but at least he was asleep. She rewet the compress once more and then went to the desk where Merlin had been keeping Arthur's things. She read the label and prepared the mix, setting it to the side to cool.

"How are you fairing?" she asked Arthur while she waited. She came to his side and pushed the blonde hair to side to feel his forehead.

"Better," Arthur gave the same answer.

"Your fever is down," Gwen informed him. "Is the salve helping?"

Arthur nodded.

"A great deal," he admitted. "And it should for how much it hurt to apply."

"Sorry," Gwen said sympathetically and Arthur smiled.

"It's alright, I'm only teasing you."

His smile fell and he looked across the room to the cot.

"He will be okay, right?"

Gwen raised an eyebrow.

"You know," Arthur quickly continued. "Because servants are so hard to find these days and it's a pain having to train a new one. He may be useless but at least he knows his way around by now."

Gwen smiled.

"That's almost like saying you like him," she said. "Don't worry, Arthur. He'll be fine."

"Are you sure? That was some pretty violent hurling …"

Gwen chuckled.

"I've seen worse."

"And the man _lived_?" Arthur asked in disbelief. Gwen nodded.

"You know him."

"Who?"

"Sir Leon," Gwen answered. "But don't tell him I told you, he'd never forgive me."

"When?" Arthur demanded.

"Oh, it was years ago. We were children."

"I didn't know you knew him."

Gwen nodded.

"My mother was a maid in their household," she said. "And she brought me along during the days to help. Sometime Leon and I played out in the garden together and sometimes he'd come visit me in the kitchens so we could talk. Once he even helped me finish my chores so I could go out to the stables with him to see the horses."

Arthur smiled.

"My brother was never happy when I was invited to come along," Gwen added.

"I didn't know you have a brother."

Gwen nodded again.

"Elyan," she said. "But I do not know where he is now or if he's even alive. I thought he might come back to Camelot when our father was … when he died but I haven't heard from him in years."

"I'm sorry; I understand how difficult that must be for you."

"It's hard losing a brother," she said. "We grew up together, we played together, we did everything together. The loss is unlike anything I've ever felt."

"I know," Arthur repeated. "The castle feels strangely empty without Morgana. She'd have been in here the moment I took sick – she always took care of me when we were children, no matter how much I protested."

"Arthur, I'm so sorry," Gwen exclaimed. "I wasn't even thinking about Morgana when I said it's unlike anything I've ever felt before. Of course you know what it feels like."

"It's alright," assured Arthur. "But I want to hear more about Leon as a boy."

"Surely you knew him; he's from a noble family."

"We met a few times in our youth but were nothing more than acquaintances until he showed up to trial to be a Knight of Camelot."

"Oh," Gwen said. "What do you want to hear about specifically?"

"Let's start with what started this entire conversation," Arthur said playfully. "Did he also have scarlet fever when he was that ill?"

Gwen shook her head.

"No, he had food poisoning."

"And you were there?"

Gwen nodded.

"The only reason I saw Leon in that state is because he asked me not to leave. My mother had shooed us from the kitchens to play in the garden …"

* * *

"Come on, Leon!" a young Gwen called, running ahead towards the meadow path. "I'll race you!"

She took off running and didn't look behind her until she reached the paddock fence. Only then did she realize Leon was merely ambling along behind her.

"What's wrong?" she asked. "You didn't even try to win!"

"Sorry," Leon mumbled.

"Are you okay? You look peaky."

"I don't feel very good."

"What's wrong? Should we go back to the house?"

"My stomach's upset," he answered. "But the fresh air is nice. Let's walk for a while."

They walked about a third of the way around the paddock, mostly in silence, when suddenly Leon wrapped his arms around his stomach and sank onto his knees.

"Leon?" Gwen asked. "What is it? Should I go get someone?"

Leon shook his head and almost immediately threw up. Gwen wrinkled her nose.

"What about now?" she asked but Leon shook his head.

"No, I'm not finished."

He threw up again and Gwen became concerned when it did not stop. She gingerly knelt beside him and put her hand on his heaving shoulder.

"You really ought to be in bed," she said.

"I can't move yet," muttered Leon before throwing up for a third time.

* * *

"How long did you stay out there with him?" Arthur asked.

"Almost until nightfall," answered Gwen.

* * *

"Leon, please," Gwen said desperately, hours later. Poor Leon was still being sick to his stomach with worrying regularity. "You need to get back to the house so the physician can figure out what's wrong."

"I can't."

"You have to. Something is wrong; you're really ill."

"I can't make it back there, it's too far."

"Then I'll go get help," Gwen said, standing. Leon reached up and grabbed her hand.

"No, please don't leave me," he pleaded. "It's almost dark."

"We can't stay out here all night!"

"I can't make it, Gwen."

"Yes, you can." Gwen announced. "I'll help you."

* * *

"And you got him home safely?"

"Eventually," Gwen answered. "I couldn't carry him – he was far too heavy – and we needed to stop every twenty feet or so but I took as much of his weight as I could and we made it back to the house by nightfall."

"Then what?"

"My mother put him to bed and fetched the physician," said Gwen. "He determined Leon had eaten something that had gone off. He was fine within a few days."

Arthur smiled.

"Even then you cared for people."

"I suppose," Gwen answered. "I didn't have much of a choice, though I can clearly remember being put off my how much sick there was."

"It doesn't seem to bother you anymore."

"No, it doesn't," Gwen agreed. She looked over her shoulder and saw the steam had stopped rising from her poultice mix. "I'd better get these sorted," she said, standing. "And please, don't tell Leon I told you any of this. He made me swear not to tell a soul way back then and I'm fairly certain he wouldn't forgive me even after all these years."

Arthur smiled.

"Mum's the word," he said.

"Thank you."

"No, thank you," Arthur replied and Gwen stopped on her way to the desk and smiled shyly.

"You're welcome," she answered. "Get some sleep, Arthur."

Arthur nodded but he didn't close his eyes. Instead, he watched Gwen prepare the poultices and, once she was sitting beside Merlin again, gently apply them. As much as he didn't want her getting sick, he had to admit he was grateful she was there and how lucky they were to have her.

 **Reviews are much appreciated, thanks!**

 **Additionally, I'm pleased to announce a new writing initiative! I'm actually trying to schedule writing into my days now and I hope to always update on Friday evening. This doesn't just apply for this story but for all the stories I'm currently working on, including a new Merlin fic called** _ **The Curse of Saint Valentine**_ **so please do check it out =)**


	8. To Be Cursed by Magic

**Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin.**

 **Hi, everyone! Thanks, as always, for such an amazing response to the last chapter! Now that I actually have an outline for this story, it's been a lot of fun to work and scenes I hadn't planned on writing end up writing themselves. Ah, the magic of writing! I hope you enjoy =)**

Arthur woke from his nap feeling refreshed and better than he had in days. He looked around the room and saw Gwen in the same position she had been when he had fallen asleep.

"How is he?" Arthur asked, sitting up. Gwen jumped in her seat before turning around.

"You startled me," she said and then sighed. "Not much better. If anything, he's getting worse."

Arthur frowned, threw back his covers, and got out of bed. His muscles ached and his body felt stiff as he crossed the room but at least everything was staying where it was supposed to; his stomach was settled and the walls weren't moving on their own accord.

"Are you sure you should be up?" Gwen asked.

"I feel much better," Arthur answered, his hand resting on the back of her chair as he looked at his servant. Merlin was paler than Arthur had ever seen him and his hair was completely soaked with sweat. His skin glistened as he tossed and turned in an unconscious sleep.

"The fever poultices didn't do anything?"

"No," Gwen said. "He didn't tolerate them very well, he kept pulling them off."

"Has he kept anything down?"

Gwen shook her head.

"Even the water I gave him came up shortly after you fell asleep."

Arthur's frown deepened.

"Should we send for Gaius?"

Gwen glanced outside.

"It's nearly mid-day," she said. "Gaius will be in the lower town right now. I'm sure he'll come when he's finished his rounds."

Gwen stared at Merlin a second longer before looking back at Arthur.

"You said you're feeling better," she said, standing. Arthur nodded.

"Much," he answered. Gwen studied the prince.

"You look better," she admitted, and it was true. Arthur's face had lost its fevered flush and his eyes were their normal colour, lacking the brightness of a high temperature. Gwen gently pressed the back of her hand against his cheek.

"Your fever is almost gone," she said, surprised.

"Gaius said the fever wasn't supposed to break until the sixth day."

Gwen frowned.

"That's what he said," she replied. "But I suppose you could get lucky."

Arthur grinned.

"I do have tremendous strokes of luck," he said and Gwen couldn't help but smile as she rolled her eyes.

"Don't get too excited," she said. "It could just be the fever potion working and it'll go up again once the medicine wears off."

"Aren't you a ray of sunshine?" muttered Arthur and Gwen smiled again, putting her hand on his arm.

"I hope I'm wrong," she said. "I hate seeing you like this."

"I'm not too thrilled about it, either," answered Arthur. "I hate for anyone to see me like this."

"Come on," Gwen said. "You have no need to be embarrassed; it's just Merlin, Gaius, and me. You don't have to put on royal airs around us."

"I'm not talking about royal airs," Arthur sighed, turning back to his bed. He flopped onto it with a sigh, annoyed that he was so tired from a few minutes of standing. Gwen followed him and leaned against one of the bedposts, her arm wrapped around it loosely.

"Then what are you talking about?"

"I just don't like people knowing I can be vulnerable."

Gwen laughed and Arthur sat up, looking at her indignantly.

"Sorry," she said. "But honestly, Arthur, you're the prince but you're still human."

"So?"

"So," Gwen repeated, moving to sit next him. "Even royalty gets sick once and awhile. Trust me, the people aren't surprised by it and they certainly don't think less of you because of it."

"How do you know?"

Gwen smiled and put her hand on Arthur's shoulder reassuringly.

"Because I've seen the way they react when they find out you've been injured. They don't want to lose you and the thought of you dying scares them. Your presence brings a sense of peace and security to the land."

"That's different," Arthur protested.

"How?"

"Because all they ever hear is that I was injured in a battle or a fight to defend them or my honour or the honour of Camelot. They know I was doing something worthwhile and got injured in the process, not that I can't fulfill my royal duties because I've got scarlet fever."

"If it helps," Gwen said. "The people don't know you're ill now. No one is questioning what you're doing. To them nothing is wrong."

"I guess," Arthur answered listlessly.

"Furthermore," Gwen continued. "It wouldn't matter if they knew because despite what you might think, it _is_ the same. You'd be in the same bed, taking the same medicine from the same physician, eating the same food, and being tended by the same people. They don't care what's wrong with you; they're just concerned that something is and they want you to be okay."

Arthur sighed and fell back on the bed again.

"And for what it's worth," Gwen said. "Knowing you get sick sometimes does nothing to make me respect you any less."

Arthur couldn't stop the small smile forming on his lips and Gwen smiled discreetly at the impact her words had made.

* * *

"I've seen too much other stuff that could make me disrespect you," Merlin joked, standing a few feet away. "Believe me, throwing up and having a fever is nothing."

Arthur and Gwen didn't seem to hear or even notice him.

"Arthur?"

The prince didn't sit up and look his way, nor did Gwen turn her head.

"Gwen?"

Merlin felt confused. What was going on? Why were his friends ignoring him? He took a few steps forward.

"Hello?" he asked. Gwen and Arthur seemed to still be talking but their words were no longer clear. "Arthur! Gwen!"

He was starting to panic and he reached out to tap Gwen's shoulder but his hand went through her, disappearing like mist.

What was going on?

"Merlin."

Merlin spun around at the sound of the comforting, familiar voice. Hunith stood there, her hands folded in front of her. She looked calm and smiled at her Merlin.

"Mother!" Merlin exclaimed, running to her. Unlike Gwen, Merlin was able to touch Hunith and she wrapped her arms around him in a big hug.

"Mother, what's going on? Why are you here?"

Hunith pulled away from her son and held him at arms' length.

"You ought to be in bed, Merlin."

Merlin looked back at Arthur and Gwen.

"How come they aren't saying anything to you? Can they not see you?"

"No."

"Are you not real?"

"I'm real to you and that is what matters," Hunith answered. "Come to bed, Merlin. You're burning up."

"Am I sick?"

"Yes," Hunith answered, guiding Merlin back to his cot. "But it's alright, I'm here now. It'll all be okay, just like it was when you were a child."

Merlin lay down and his mother pulled the blanket up around him.

"Close your eyes, my dear boy," she murmured quietly as she picked up the cloth from the basin Gwen had left near the chair. "It will be better soon."

Merlin tried to close his eyes but he couldn't keep them shut. There was too much he wanted to know.

"What is it?" asked Hunith patiently. She delicately sponged Merlin's forehead.

"How did you get here so quickly?"

"I'm always with you."

"But how did you know I was ill?"

"You're my only son; mothers know these things, Merlin."

"If they can't see you, does that mean they can't see me? Is that why they're not answering my calls?"

Hunith didn't answer this question but smiled sadly.

"This reminds me of when you were a boy," she said. "And you and Will stayed out past dark one night in the dead of winter. You caught such a case of flu that I didn't have the heart to punish you any further."

"I remember," Merlin said. "You made a bed for me in front of the fire and told me stories about knights and dragons and grand adventures."

"Yes," agreed Hunith.

"What do I have?" Merlin asked. "What's making me sick?"

"You have scarlet fever."

"That's what Arthur has," Merlin said, slowly remembering.

"Yes."

"Did I catch it from him?"

"In a manner of speaking; it's complicated."

"Am I going to die? Is that why I can see you? Are you already dead?"

Fear filled Merlin's eyes and his voice rose in panic. A smile appeared on the woman's face and she patted Merlin's shoulder reassuringly.

"No, love, you are not going to die and I am not dead, either." She sighed. "Merlin, you have always believed that your powers are a gift and you use them to help people in an admirable and selfless way."

"That's what you've always taught me to believe," said Merlin. "Is it not true? Are my powers not a gift? Should I not use them to help people?"

"Of course they are," Hunith answered. "And it makes me proud to see you willingly give so much of yourself. Arthur was ill and you tried to heal him. Do you remember this?"

Merlin hadn't remembered trying to heal Arthur until that precise moment but the scream, the searing pain, and the lie about the rat came flooding back and he nodded.

"The trouble with magical healing," continued Hunith. "Is that it is very difficult to do properly."

"Gaius said that, too."

"Merlin, when you tried to heal Arthur with magic, your spell rebounded and has made you sick."

"So Gaius was right."

"I'm afraid so," Hunith answered. "But it gets worse. Because you were made sick by magic, it will be very difficult to get well without magic. Your illness will be tenfold what Arthur's was."

"You said I wasn't going to die."

Hunith smiled.

"And you won't," she said. "You are strong and will make it through this."

"How do you know?"

"Mothers know these things."

To Merlin's eyes, Hunith began to fade.

"Mother!" Merlin cried, sounding very much like a boy who had just woken up from a nightmare. "Mother, don't leave me."

"You'll be okay, Merlin, I promise. You need to tell Gaius what I said, it will save you."

"Mother!"

"I love you, Merlin. Speak to Gaius." Hunith's voice was faint and she stretched out her hand, which Merlin clasped onto tightly but it reacted like Gwen's shoulder had; it slipped right through his fingers, an uncatchable fog.

"Mother!"

* * *

Both Arthur and Gwen looked towards Merlin at the sound of his cry. Gwen hurried over and sat in the chair again.

"Merlin," she said, shaking his shoulder. "Merlin, wake up. It's a dream!"

Merlin's eyes flew open and he looked around frantically.

"Where is she?" he demanded.

"Who?"

"My mother," Merlin answered. "She was right here."

"No one was here, Merlin," Gwen said gently. "You were dreaming."

"No, she was here." Merlin insisted, the vision of his mother so clear to his mind.

"No, she wasn't," Gwen repeated. "I've been here the entire time and no one has come into the chamber, not even Gaius."

His mother's words came flooding back to him about the nature of his sickness.

"Gaius," he said. "I need to speak with him."

He threw back his covers and started to stand up but Gwen stopped him.

"I need to talk to Gaius," Merlin insisted, pushing Gwen's hand out of the way.

"Merlin, lie down. I'll get you some water to clear your head."

"I don't want water!" Merlin exclaimed. "I need to find Gaius."

He pushed Gwen away and she lost her balance, falling to the floor. With no concern for his friend, Merlin started towards the door.

"Hey!" Arthur exclaimed, jumping up from his bed and crossing the room quickly. "Merlin, listen to me," he said, blocking Merlin's path. "You need to get back into bed. You're ill."

"I know," Merlin said, exasperated. "That's why I need to find Gaius. I need to talk to him about what's making me sick."

"You have scarlet fever," answered Arthur. "You caught it from me. Do you remember?"

"Of course I do," Merlin said, still trying to get around Arthur. Gwen had gotten up from the floor and was watching from a few paces away. "I need to talk to Gaius!"

Merlin, caught up in a fevered paranoia, decided the best course of action was to knock Arthur to the ground. He stepped back two steps and then threw his weight at the prince.

"Merlin!" Arthur yelled as his servant literally bounced off his chest and fell backwards onto the floor. Pain tore through Arthur's chest at the impact, not because Merlin was strong but because of his burn that was beginning to heal. Arthur doubled over in pain.

"Arthur!" Gwen exclaimed. "Merlin!"

She didn't know which patient to tend first; the prince who was in pain or the servant who had already scrambled off the floor and was still intent on escaping the room.

She quickly decided on the latter.

"Merlin," she said quickly. "Merlin, listen to me. We need to stay in here so we don't get any one else sick but I'll ask the guards to fetch Gaius for you. Is that alright?"

It was not good enough for Merlin, who tried to push her out of the way. His run-in with Arthur had taken its toll, however, and Gwen was able to withstand his shoves. Arthur managed to straighten up and came from behind Merlin. He threw his arms around his servant and tried to forcibly gain control over Merlin.

"Talk to the guards," Arthur hissed, looking at Gwen over Merlin's shoulder. "Send for Gaius and then tell them to barricade the door."

Gwen did as Arthur said and when she closed the door after speaking to the guard, she saw Arthur beginning to lose the strength he needed to hold Merlin back.

"Is the door barricaded?" he asked, painfully straining against Merlin fighting to get out of his grasp and wanting to curse for how much pain he was in. Gwen nodded and Arthur let Merlin go. The servant took a few unsteady steps to the door and tried to open it.

"Hey!" he shouted. "Let me out!"

He banged on the door and when nothing happened, he tried ramming into it with his shoulder.

"Let him try," Arthur said, hunching over again. "He won't get anywhere."

Gwen, with a fleeting look at Merlin, nodded and then hurried over to Arthur.

"Come on," she said. "Let's get you back to bed and I'll look at your burn."

Arthur put his arm around Gwen's neck and they made their way back the bed. Arthur eased onto it, a grimace still on his face.

"Let me see," Gwen said, lifting up the tunic he had put on before going to sleep. The burn was clearly irritated and while Merlin continued to throw himself at the door, Gwen cleaned and redressed the wound.

"I can mix you a pain potion if you'd like," she offered and Arthur accepted. He had just swallowed the mixture when the door opened.

"Gaius!" Merlin exclaimed. "I've been trying to get to you but they stopped me. I think they locked me in here."

Gaius looked at Merlin and then at Gwen and Arthur. He saw the concern in their faces but decided it was best to deal with Merlin first and ask questions later.

"Before you tell me what is so important," he said. "Can you lie down again? I promise I will listen while I check you over."

Merlin seemed happy enough with this arrangement and he was so tired from constantly running into doors that it didn't take much to lead him across the room and sit him down on the cot.

"Alright," Gaius said once Merlin was lying down. "What's this all about?"

"My mother was here," Merlin began and Gaius laid a hand on his forehead.

"Yes, go on."

"And she said I got sick from magic."

"Magic?" Arthur repeated and Gaius quickly turned to the prince.

"He's delirious, Sire, his fever is extremely high. He doesn't know what he's saying or doing. Best to indulge him, though, or else the paranoia will never ease and he won't get the rest he needs."

He turned back to Merlin seriously.

"Go on, Merlin."

"She said my scarlet fever will be ten times worse than Arthur's," Merlin told the physician. "And because I got sick from magic, only magic will cure me. She said I won't die, though, so that's a good thing."

"Good news indeed," Gaius said, patting his shoulder. "Thank you for telling me this, Merlin, but now you must rest. I'll give you a sleeping draught so you rest comfortably."

"He hasn't been able to keep anything down," Gwen spoke up.

"I think we should try anyway," Gaius answered. He opened his kit and quickly made up the potion. "There you are," he said. "That's a good lad."

Merlin finished the drink and fell asleep almost instantly.

"Are you sure that was all nonsense?" Arthur asked as Gaius came over to them.

"Yes," he answered, nodding. "Merlin must have been hallucinating about his mother. You had hallucinations, too, and they are not uncommon with scarlet fever."

"You said something about paranoia?"

"It's less common than hallucinations," Gaius admitted. "But it has been known to be a symptom. Once they get something in their head, they have to do it."

"And his mother said to tell you he got sick from magic?"

"Apparently so," Gaius said with a sigh. "May I look at your burns?"

Arthur nodded and Gaius quickly examined Arthur.

"I don't believe it," he murmured after laying a hand on Arthur's cheek.

"What? What's wrong?" Arthur asked, slightly alarmed.

"It's nothing bad, I assure you," answered Gaius. "Quite the opposite, in fact. Your fever is completely gone."

"It was lessening this morning as well," Gwen added. Gaius shook his head in wonder.

"Never in my day have I seen a case so remarkable," he said. "You are very lucky, Arthur."

Arthur smiled.

"Thank you, Gaius."

"Don't thank me, Sire, I didn't do anything. It's been Merlin and Gwen who have seen you through this."

Even as Gaius was thinking that Arthur would never truly comprehend how much Merlin had done for him yet again, the servant boy began to cough. Both Gwen and Gaius hurried over in time to make sure he didn't choke on his own vomit.

It took a long time for Merlin to stop dry-heaving and finally fall asleep.

"Sit with him," Gaius told Gwen. "I'll find something that will work better."

He looked over at Arthur, who had stayed in his bed throughout the entire ordeal but had never once looked away.

"And I'll send some stew up for you, Sire. You must be hungry."

"I can wait," Arthur answered. "Do what you can for Merlin first."

Gaius nodded and left the room. As he walked towards his chambers, the physician sighed. He didn't know how Merlin's mother factored into the equation – perhaps she really had been a hallucination or maybe she was Merlin's subconscious revealing to him the key to his recovery – but Gaius realized that what Merlin had said was right: he was made ill by magic and therefore needed to be cured by magic. A magical cure for scarlet fever was not going to be easy which meant it was going to be a very long night of research.

 **Reviews are much appreciated, thank you!**


	9. A Curse Indeed

**Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin.**

 **Hi, all! Thank you, as always, for your support and encouragement. I am the first to admit that the following chapter is rather weak on plot but huge on Arthur-Merlin bromance and Merlin whump. If this is your thing … enjoy!**

Gwen had insisted on staying up with Merlin again and when Arthur woke up, he found her asleep in the chair, the wet rag still in her hand.

"Guinevere," he said quietly, kneeling next to her. "Guinevere."

"Hmm?" Gwen murmured, her eyebrows furrowing. "I'm awake, I promise."

Arthur smiled.

"Right," he said. "Come on, you need some proper rest."

He gently tugged on Gwen's hand and she grudgingly opened her eyes.

"Arthur?" she asked, glancing past him out the window. "What time is it? How long have I been asleep?"

"Yes, it's me," answered Arthur. "It's just past dawn and not nearly long enough."

"How are you feeling?"

"I feel nearly well," he said, still trying to coax Gwen out of her chair. Gwen wasn't easily moved, however, and she pulled her hand from Arthur's grasp and laid it on Merlin's forehead.

"He's absolutely roasting," she murmured. She turned to wet her cloth but realized nearly all the water was gone from her bowl.

She stood and moved towards the door but Arthur grabbed her by the hand again.

"What are you doing?" she asked. "I need to get fresh water."

"I can do it," Arthur answered. "You need to sleep."

"I just was," argued Gwen. "It's enough to last for a while longer."

"Guinevere, I insist. You've been taking care of both of us without reprieve. If you keep it up much longer, you'll get scarlet fever as well and I couldn't bear to see that happen."

Gwen smiled.

"That's very sweet, Arthur, but who's going to stay with Merlin?"

Arthur raised an eyebrow, which Gwen mirrored.

"You?"

"Why not? He's asleep and it's a wet rag. I think I can manage."

"But you're not yet fully recovered."

"I have no fever," said Arthur. "And I'm starving."

"I can send for your breakfast," Gwen interrupted, moving again towards the door and Arthur stopped her for a second time.

"And the only evidence of this entire ordeal," he continued. "Is the rash and the burns, both of which have already begun to heal."

Gwen shook her head.

"I can't, Arthur. If something happens to him, I would never forgive myself."

"Nothing is going to happen. Besides, if it does, you'll be sleeping right over there."

"Where?"

"Over there," Arthur repeated, gesturing to his bed.

"You want me to sleep in your bed?"

"Where else would you sleep?"

"Arthur, I can't sleep in your bed. What would Uther say?"

"I don't care what he would say because he's not going to find out. At any rate, it's my bed and I'll share it with whom I please."

An embarrassed silence formed as his last words hung in the air.

"I meant," Arthur stammered. "Not that I … no one …"

His face was turning red, as was Gwen's.

"I can't," she finally repeated.

"I insist," Arthur argued.

"No, I mean, the bedding is likely full of the sickness."

"I'll put fresh bedding on," Arthur said immediately and again Gwen raised an eyebrow.

"You're going to make your own bed?"

"For you, of course. How hard can it be?"

Gwen covered her mouth with her hand, trying to hide her smile.

"That's very sweet," she said for a second time that morning. "But if I'm going to sleep in your bed, the least I can do is put on a fresh set of sheets."

"You don't think I can do it."

"I didn't say that. You've slain many warriors, I'm sure you can figure out simple bedding."

"Watch me," he said. He left Gwen standing near the door and strode to the cabinet. He opened it and pulled out the first item of cloth he saw. It was a tunic, which he glanced at, frowned, and shoved back onto the pile.

Gwen watched with high amusement as Arthur went through every compartment of the cabinet.

"Where does Merlin hide the bloody sheets?" he exclaimed. Gwen cleared her throat.

"This does not mean I can't make a bed," snapped Arthur.

"I was going to say," Gwen answered kindly. "That the sheets are probably in there."

She pointed to a chest on the other side of the room. Arthur strode over and knelt beside it. Opening the lid, he found extra blankets, towels, and sheets.

"What's it doing in here?" he asked.

"It's a cedar chest," Gwen explained. "It keeps the moths out of the linen."

"Right." Arthur said, taking a set of bedding from the chest and closing the lid.

"First, we get rid of the soiled sheets," he said, setting the clean ones on the table before pulling off the ones he'd been using. Holding them in a pile, he looked around for somewhere to put them and decided to simply deposit them in the corner behind his privacy screen.

"Next," he said, picking up top sheet and unfolding it. It was bigger than he was expecting and for a moment, he was lost within it. "We put the clean set on."

Arthur tucked one sheet around the mattress and then put another on top of that, tucking it in at the bottom and folding it down at the top.

"We add a blanket," he continued. "And pillows."

He folded a warm blanket over the foot of the bed and plumped the pillows. When he was done, he turned to Gwen.

"And there you are," he said. "A freshly made bed."

Gwen clapped and Arthur took a small bow.

"I'm impressed, Arthur," she said. "I'm truly impressed."

"I'm more than just a pretty face," Arthur answered, going to her and ushering her back towards the bed. "Now, I want you to get some sleep. It's well deserved."

Gwen sat on the bed uncertainly.

"Are you sure you can manage Merlin?"

"Yes." Arthur said confidently.

"And you'll wake me if there are any problems."

"I promise."

Gwen sighed.

"Are you sure this is okay?"

"Guinevere."

"Fine," Gwen said, kicking off her shoes and lying on the soft mattress. Arthur pulled the blanket up for her.

"Sleep well," he replied, noting Gwen's eyes were already closed. Smiling to himself, Arthur left Gwen to sleep and strode over to the door. He told the guards to send for clean water and breakfast and then he went to Merlin's side.

Sitting in the chair, he studied his servant. Of course he had seen Merlin ill before but it was nevertheless unsettling to see him in such a state.

Once the fresh water and food arrived, Arthur put a plate together and poured the water into the basin. Balancing his breakfast on his lap, he held the wet rag against Merlin's brow with one hand and ate with the other. After he finished, he was more committed to nursing the fever. He was not going to let Gwen think he couldn't handle this. Very methodically, Arthur bathed Merlin's forehead, cheeks, and neck. The servant stayed asleep and the prince wondered if he was merely asleep or unconscious. Given how high his temperature was, unconsciousness was not outside the realm of possibility.

Everything was going smoothly until Merlin twitched suddenly. Arthur frowned.

"Merlin?" he said quietly. "Are you awake?"

Merlin twitched again and his hand moved to his shoulder. He made the motion of brushing something off.

"Merlin," Arthur repeated. "Wake up."

Though his eyes remained closed, Merlin forcefully made the same movement.

"What are you doing?"

Of course he gave no answer but Merlin's hand moved from his shoulder to his stomach. His other hand started rubbing frantically at his neck.

"Merlin," said Arthur, hoping not to wake Gwen. "Merlin, stop it!"

He took Merlin's hands in his own but Merlin fought against the tension. Arthur was still weak enough to he realized he wouldn't be able to fight Merlin so he let his hands go, remembering what Gaius had said about paranoia. Merlin began squirming uncontrollably.

"Get off!" he exclaimed. "Get off!"

"There's nothing there," Arthur answered.

"Get off!"

"What's going on?" Gwen's voice asked and Arthur grimaced. He turned around.

"I'm sorry," he said as Gwen hurriedly got out of bed. "I was hoping not to wake you."

"What's happening?"

"I think he's hallucinating again," Arthur answered. "Or he's paranoid, or maybe both."

"Merlin," Gwen said loudly. She went to the other side of the cot, leaned down, and took Merlin's shoulders in her hands. "Merlin, wake up."

"Get off!" Merlin cried again. Gwen didn't take this to mean her and she shook Merlin's shoulders firmly.

"Merlin!"

Merlin's eyes flew open and he looked around frantically.

"Bugs," he said breathlessly. "Insects, everywhere, they're everywhere!"

"There are no bugs," Arthur insisted.

"Of course there are, they're everywhere!"

"He must think they're covering his body," Gwen said, noticing Merlin was still squirming.

"Can you tell me where they are?" Gwen asked. "I don't see them."

"They're all over me!" answered Merlin. "I'm infested."

If Merlin hadn't been so sick, Arthur would have made some sort of smart comeback but there was nothing funny about this.

"How do we get rid of them, Merlin?" Arthur asked seriously.

"You need to burn them."

Arthur rolled his eyes and this time the temptation was too great.

"I'm afraid I can't set you on fire, Merlin, as much as I may want to some days. Is there anything else we can do?"

"No, it has to be fire. They'll come back otherwise."

"Okay," Gwen said, trying to keep her voice calm. "If we burn the blankets and your clothes, will that get rid of them? Or is there something that needs to be done for the ones on you?"

"Boiling water," Merlin answered. Gwen glanced at Arthur.

"Fine," Arthur said, nodding. "Merlin, hang in there while we sort it out for you."

He stood and started towards the door.

"What are you doing?" hissed Gwen.

"Arranging for bath water," answered Arthur. "Gaius said that the only way to end the paranoia is to indulge it."

"What about his fever?"

"I don't know, maybe a hot bath will make him sweat it out. Either way, he's not going to get any rest in this state."

Gwen smiled discreetly as Arthur spoke to the guard again. She looked at Merlin.

"It's alright," she said, stroking back his hair in a very maternal fashion. "We're going to get you the hottest bath we can to kill them and we'll burn the blankets and clothes. It won't be more than a few minutes and then you'll feel better."

Her words seemed to appease Merlin slightly but he didn't stop fidgeting.

"Right," Arthur said, returning to Merlin's cot. "The tub and water are being arranged."

"We'd better ask for Gaius to send another night shirt."

"He can wear one of mine," answered Arthur. "And he can sleep in my bed from now on."

"Really?"

"Don't look so surprised, Guinevere," Arthur said with a smile. "I do have a heart, you know."

"One which clearly cares a lot about Merlin," Gwen couldn't help but respond.

"Don't you dare tell him," Arthur warned.

"Not a word," promised Gwen.

The next half hour was chaotic in the chamber. The tub was brought up and bucket after bucket of water warmed and added to it.

"Merlin," Arthur said, kneeling next to his friend who was clearly very uncomfortable. "The bath is ready, can you get up?"

He nodded and Arthur offered his pock-marked hand to help. A smaller but similarly marked hand gripped it and Merlin sat up slowly. They crossed the room to the steaming tub of water.

"Are there still bugs?" Arthur asked, noting Merlin was still swatting at air. Merlin nodded. "Will this kill them?"

Merlin felt the water with his hand and nodded.

"Good," Arthur said. "Can you undress?"

Merlin pulled his tunic off.

"Don't touch it," he said. "You need to burn it."

"We'll take care of it. Come on, the water's getting cold."

Merlin hesitated taking off his trousers. He looked at Gwen.

"What about you?"

Gwen frowned.

"I'm sorry?"

Merlin glanced at Arthur.

"I can't bathe with her here."

Arthur sighed, realizing this meant he would need to be the one to help Merlin.

"Merlin," Gwen began, sensing Arthur's realization but Arthur interrupted her.

"It's fine, Guinevere," he said. "Close the curtains and wait on the other side."

Gwen smiled kindly at Arthur.

"Let me know if you need anything."

She pulled the curtains closed and sat on the edge of Arthur's bed, listening. She heard Arthur helping Merlin into the bath and the sounds of Merlin dunking his head. After a few minutes, Arthur told Merlin it was time to get out and there was more sloshing of water.

"Dry off," Arthur told Merlin. "I'll find you something to wear."

The curtains parted and Arthur strode through, going to cupboards.

"Everything alright?" Gwen asked and Arthur nodded.

"Fine," he answered.

Gwen smiled.

"You're a good man, Arthur Pendragon, and a very loyal friend."

Arthur shrugged.

"He'd do the same for me."

He was going to say something more but there was a crash from the other side of the room.

"Merlin?" Arthur called, hurrying forward. Merlin was on the floor, though he was still conscious. Arthur and Gwen rushed over.

"What happened?" asked Arthur.

"I fell over," Merlin mumbled.

"Did you hit your head?"

"No."

"Come on," Arthur said. "Let's get you back to bed."

Merlin seemed to have calmed down considerably now that the 'bugs' were gone and he made no comment about why he was wearing Arthur's tunic or question being led to, and tucked into, Arthur's bed.

"Before you go to sleep," Gwen said. "Can you drink something for me?"

Merlin nodded weakly and Gwen quickly mixed up a fever draught for him. She held it to his lips and he drank it without complaint, falling asleep quickly afterwards.

"Let's hope that makes a difference," she said with a deep sigh. She looked at Arthur, who wore a worried expression and was watching Merlin with crossed arms. The only time she'd ever seen him look so serious was when Morgana had been nearly dead because of Edwin's magical beetles.

"Are you alright?" she asked and Arthur looked up.

"Fine," he answered.

"Do you feel okay?"

Arthur nodded.

"Are you sure? You look a bit pale."

"I'm probably just tired."

Gwen sighed again.

"I knew I shouldn't have agreed to letting you tend Merlin," she said. "It was too much for you. If you relapse, I'll never forgive myself."

"Guinevere," he said. "Calm down. I'll be fine."

"How can you possibly rest now? Merlin is in your bed."

"What's to say I couldn't also sleep in my bed?" Arthur asked defiantly. A dumbfounded look crossed Gwen's face and Arthur spoke again before she could. "No, you're right, definitely not. I'll sleep on the cot."

"Go lie down for a while," she said. "I'll stay with him."

Arthur agreed and after getting another set of clean blankets from the cedar chest, made up the cot and fell asleep surprisingly quickly.

Although Merlin's fever was still high, he was sleeping more peacefully than he had been earlier and Gwen began cleaning up from the bath, checking on her patients periodically. She was almost done emptying the tub when Merlin groaned. She put the bucket down and hurried over.

"Merlin?" she asked. "Are you alright?"

Merlin wore a pained expression and he shook his head.

"What's wrong?"

The stiff way in which Merlin moved should have been evidence enough but Merlin lifted the tunic and Gwen gasped, her hands covering her mouth.

"Merlin!" she exclaimed, taking in the blood red boils that were ranging in size and covering Merlin's abdomen. Upon closer look, they were also running down his arms and covering his hands. "How did this happen?"

Merlin let his tunic fall again and grimaced.

"Don't know," he whispered.

"Your voice," Gwen said immediately. "Is your throat sore?"

Merlin nodded.

"When will this end?" he moaned in a raspy, barely-audible voice.

"Shh," Gwen hushed. "Don't try to talk. Let me make you some medicine for the pain and then I'll send for Gaius."

She hurried away and Merlin was only able to see her out of the corners of his eyes. His head felt too heavy to move and even if he could, his entire body felt like it was simultaneously on fire and resting on a bed of nails.

"Here you go," she said, holding the cup to his lips for a second time. Gwen should have known better; Merlin choked on the sour potion and began coughing. He barely managed to roll onto his side before vomiting and the act of throwing up, in combination with having to move, was so painful that he groaned loudly as he eased onto his back again, his face screwed up. Gwen watched in horror as Merlin's eyes rolled back into his head and he began convulsing.

"Arthur!" she shouted.

Arthur was awake instantly.

"What's wrong?" he asked but as soon as he saw the terrified look on Gwen's face, in conjunction with a convulsing Merlin, he knew. Gwen said the words anyways, though Arthur was already halfway to the door.

"We need Gaius. _Now_."

… **you can't say I didn't warn you about poor Merlin. I promise the next chapter will have more action to it (it's also the last chapter). Reviews are much appreciated, thank you!**


	10. Sorcerer, Heal Thyself

**Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin.**

 **Hi! Thanks, as always, for your encouragement and support and I hope you enjoy the final chapter =)**

By the time Gaius arrived, Merlin had stopped convulsing but was nearly unconscious, moaning pathetically. Gwen had tears running down her cheeks as she held a cold cloth to Merlin's forehead. Her other hand was tightly clasped in Merlin's and she was trying to soothe him. Arthur was standing stone-faced at the end of the bed.

"Let me see him!" Gaius exclaimed, hurrying towards the bed. Gwen stepped back and Gaius took her place.

"Merlin?" he asked, gently lifting Merlin's eyelids to inspect his pupils.

"Gaius," Merlin groaned. "Something happened."

"I know," answered Gaius. "Gwen and Arthur sent for me. Try not to talk."

Merlin's eyes slid closed and he nodded.

"What is it?" Arthur asked.

"I'm not sure, my lord."

Gwen moved next to Arthur, who put his arm around her reassuringly, while Gaius continued to examine Merlin.

"When did the boils appear?"

"Not long ago," answered Gwen. She explained about the bath and how Merlin woke up.

"I've never seen sores like this associated with scarlet fever," Gaius admitted. "I'm not sure what I can do to help him apart from making him comfortable."

"There has to be something, surely." Arthur said.

"If I could determine exactly what has happened to make this occur, there probably would be something to be done but I don't know what's causing these symptoms."

"Can you figure it out?"

"I'm afraid I can't," Gaius answered. "The initial symptomology and circumstances all point to scarlet fever but the disease appears to have mutated in Merlin's body. That's the only explanation I can give."

Or, thought Gaius, the only explanation I'm willing to give. Obviously this was magical, at least to some extent. Heading Hunith's words, he had been reading about magical healing into the late hours of the night and had continued as soon as he'd woken up this morning. The physician was still poring over his books when the guards had come to fetch him. His work had not been in vain, however, as he had found a spell that should ease the effects of harm caused by a rebounded healing spell by calling up and harnessing the power of the sorcerer to effectively heal himself. The properties of the Old Religion always exalted a perfect balance; that which harmed could also heal.

"I'd like to take him back to my chambers," Gaius told Gwen and Arthur. Both protested immediately.

"We're in quarantine," Arthur said. "My father would never allow it."

"Who is going to tend him? Surely you'll need some help." Gwen added.

"I will speak to Uther and I will tend him." Gaius answered both of their questions and without waiting for a second round of objections, looked at Gwen.

"Keep bathing his brow," he instructed. "I'll be back soon."

He strode out of the room and walked swiftly through the halls to the throne room.

"Sire," he said, bowing upon entrance. "I must speak with you. It is a matter of some urgency."

Uther looked up from his papers.

"Is Arthur alright?"

"Yes, my lord."

"Then what is it?"

"It is about Merlin, Sire."

Uther didn't say anything, waiting for Gaius to continue.

"He has taken ill in the worst way," Gaius explained. "While I initially diagnosed him with scarlet fever, undoubtedly a result of being in closed quarters with Prince Arthur, his symptoms have expanded and I believe he is now suffering from a mutated form of the disease."

"It is unfortunate, surely, but why concern me with it?"

"I am seeking your permission to remove Merlin from Prince Arthur's chambers and take him back to my own so I can keep a closer watch over him."

"Can't you do that in Arthur's room? The entire purpose of the quarantine would be void if I allowed you to take Merlin back to your chambers."

"I understand, Sire, but I worry about the effects this mutation may have on Prince Arthur."

"How do you mean?"

"Your son has made a remarkable recovery and is nearly well. He has healed much quicker than I anticipated. I would hate to risk a relapse or re-infection because Merlin is so ill."

"Does Merlin pose a risk to others?"

"I cannot say for certain, my lord," Gaius admitted. "At the very best, he is considered contagious for scarlet fever."

"And the worst?"

"I do not know how this disease mutated. If it is nothing more than a poor reaction limited to Merlin, the mutated form will not spread. If the sickness itself has been altered, there is the possibility it will prove catching to others. I will add," continued Gaius, knowing he had to convince the king to allow him to move Merlin. "That Prince Arthur is more susceptible to sickness right now as he is still recovering."

"Of course," Uther said. "Will you keep Merlin in quarantine in your own chambers?"

"Yes, my lord."

"What about you?"

"I will stay with him."

"What if I or members of the court require your services?"

"I shall come at once."

"Will that prove a risk to us?"

"No more a risk than me being here now."

Uther sighed.

"Very well," he said. "You may remove Merlin from Prince Arthur's chambers and quarantine him within yours. You are not to leave the room unless summoned by me and I do not want you to treat the people of Camelot until Merlin is recovered."

"Yes, Sire."

"Prince Arthur will remain in quarantine until you are sure he is no longer in danger."

"Very good, my lord."

"Who is with Arthur now?"

"Guinevere volunteered to nurse him and Merlin."

Uther frowned.

"Is that entirely appropriate?"

"Excuse me?"

"Arthur and Guinevere are alone in a quarantined chamber. I am beginning to think he has feelings for the servant girl and I wouldn't want to encourage anything."

"Gwen has been very faithful to Arthur and has seen to his nursing care in an admirable way, Sire," Gaius reminded him. "And it's been at great personal risk. She will need to remain in the chamber until the quarantine is lifted."

Uther didn't look happy at this idea but he nodded.

"Very well. Is there anything else?"

"No, Sire."

"Thank you, Gaius."

Gaius bowed his head and hurried from the throne room and back to Arthur's chambers. He told the guards outside the door to fetch a stretcher before entering.

"Alright," Gaius said, once inside. "Merlin is going to be moved back to his room but the king has ordered you," he looked at Arthur. "And Gwen to remain here until the quarantine is lifted."

"No." Arthur said. "I don't want him to leave."

"He'll be with me, my lord, and I promise I will take very good care of him."

"It's not right," argued Arthur.

"I'm sorry but I have the king's permission."

"We'll see about that." Arthur turned on his heel and strode out of the room.

"Arthur, stop! You're in quarantine!" Gwen called after him but it did no good. Arthur had no trouble making the one guard left outside his door stand down and he strode throughout the palace until he found his father.

"Father," he said clearly, coming to the spot Gaius had stood mere moments ago. Uther looked up with surprise. He didn't seem bothered by the rash or the healing burn marks still evident on Arthur's forehead and neck.

"You're supposed to be in quarantine," he said, sitting back in his chair.

"You can't let Gaius take Merlin from my chambers."

"I already have."

"It seems poor thanks, does it not?" asked Arthur. "The poor man worked himself into this state taking care of me and now that I'm better, we shunt him out of my room?"

"I have to consider what's best for you, Arthur."

"For once can we think about someone other than me?"

"Not today," Uther replied. "I need to consider your health and Gaius has said you're still susceptible to re-infection. Merlin is a loyal servant but I cannot let your fondness of him cloud your judgement concerning my priorities."

"You would place my life over Merlin's."

"Without hesitation."

"How can you possibly say that? He may be a useless servant but,"

"But what?" Uther interrupted. "You care about him? He's your friend?"

"Yes on both accounts," answered Arthur coldly. "He is my friend and I would die for him like I would any of my knights."

"He is still being tended by Gaius."

"What if Gaius needs help? Why can we not offer him the use of my room, my bed?"

"My decision is final." Uther said in the calmest voice he could manage. "Please return to your chambers."

Arthur glared at Uther.

"Guards," Uther said when his son didn't move. Two guards at the door stepped forward.

"Fine," Arthur said. "But if anything happens to him, be it on your head."

He turned and stormed from the room. He was rounded a corner on the way back to his chambers and came face to face with Gaius. Behind him was Merlin, tucked underneath a blanket, on a stretcher borne by two guards.

"Take good care of him," he told the physician. "And keep us updated."

"Of course, my lord."

Arthur nodded and stepped to the side for the party to continue and then returned to his room. Gwen was pacing in front of the fire.

"I'm assuming you had no success in convincing your father to change his mind."

"None," Arthur sighed, falling into a chair.

* * *

The guards brought Merlin into the physician's chambers and Gaius eased him off the stretcher and onto his bed.

"Thank you," he said to the guards as they left. Merlin was still on the verge of unconsciousness and Gaius laid his hand on his forehead. Not surprisingly, it was burning with fever. Gaius studied the boy he had come to love so much for a moment before turning and going to the table that housed his stacks of books. He selected the top one – a large, black leather bound book – and took it to Merlin.

He flipped open to the page he had been reading and his finger underlined the spell that must be used. Closing his eyes, Gaius drew in a deep breath. It had been a long time since he'd performed magic and he felt incredibly hypocritical doing so. It wasn't a choice, however, and the only thing that mattered now was finding the power deep inside him.

After a few more steadying breaths, Gaius opened his eyes and laid his hand on Merlin's chest.

"Magus, cura teipsum."

Nothing happened, though Gaius felt his powers leave him. He took another deep breath and focused intently on Merlin's chest.

"Magus, cura teipsum!"

The feeling was stronger this time but Merlin still didn't stir.

"Magus, cura teipsum!"

The surge of magical power was so strong that Gaius fell backwards onto the floor. On the bed, Merlin's eyes flew open and he screamed as the searing pain shot through his body. As quickly as it had come, though, it left and he lay panting.

"Merlin?" Gaius asked, painfully pushing himself into a sitting position. "Merlin?"

"Gaius," Merlin said in a clear, strong voice. He saw Gaius on the floor and quickly got up and offered Gaius a hand.

"Merlin!" Gaius exclaimed, throwing his arms around the boy. Merlin hugged him back.

"Come, come, back in bed," urged the physician. Merlin did as he was told and then looked at his father-figure quizzically.

"What did you just do?"

Gaius repeated the entire sequence of events.

"How is that possible?" Merlin asked, referring to the spell Gaius had just performed. "What if your spell had rebounded and you ended up ill?"

"It wasn't a risk," explained Gaius. "Unlike the healing spell you used to cure Arthur, this one did not rely on my power to heal. It simply acted as a catalyst for you to heal yourself."

"Arthur!" Merlin exclaimed, suddenly remembering. "Is he alright?"

Gaius smiled.

"He is fine," he assured Merlin. "Your spell, while damaging to you, made his experience with the disease short lived. I daresay he owes you a great deal."

"He won't ever know."

"Perhaps not," Gaius said with a glint in his eye.

"I know that look," Merlin said. "What are you up to?"

"How are you feeling, Merlin?"

Merlin was taken aback by the question.

"I feel fine," he said. "Nothing is the matter, your spell worked perfectly."

"Wrong," Gaius answered. "Arthur must never know that you were cured with magic. When you were taken from his chambers, you were deathly ill. He cannot see you healthy again so soon."

"What are you suggesting?"

"You must feign being ill for the next few days."

"You're giving me permission to fake sick so I don't have to go work for Arthur."

"More than that, I'm helping you to do so."

"How?"

Merlin very quickly found out how and was soon disguised as a scarlet fever patient complete with pock marks and painted on boils.

"I'll leave this here," Gaius said, setting a phial on the bedside table. "Should someone come in, you must drink it straightaway."

"What does it do?" Merlin asked sceptically.

"It makes you perspire."

"Is that all?"

"Yes."

"That doesn't sound so bad."

"Wait till you taste it before deciding," Gaius said with a smile. "Now, enjoy your time resting. I daresay you've earned a few days off."

"Thank you, Gaius."

Gaius patted Merlin's leg through the blankets and closed the door behind him. Once he'd assured Arthur and Gwen that Merlin was resting comfortably due to a strong potion he'd made, Gaius returned and fell into his own bed for a much needed nap.

* * *

Three days later, Merlin was still in his bed pretending to be sick when he heard a knock on the door to the chambers. Gaius was out doing his rounds – the king had given him permission to resume his duties when he learned Merlin was no longer contagious and making a steady recovery – which meant he'd have to answer the door. Of course he couldn't, though, because there was no telling who might be on the other side.

Merlin didn't have much time to think about how to handle the situation because the door swung inwards, pushed open by the insistent visitor.

"Hello?" Arthur called. Merlin quickly reached for the potion bottle that was still sitting there – it had been refilled twice now as Gwen had come to call – and drank the terrible tasting liquid. The effects were almost instantaneous and he felt the sweat beads building on his brow.

"Merlin?" Arthur called.

"In here," Merlin answered, trying to get the awful taste out of his mouth. He heard Arthur crossing the floor and he came into view coming up the stairs.

"Merlin," Arthur greeted him. "Good to see you looking better."

"And you," replied Merlin. "Out of quarantine?"

"Yes," Arthur answered, sitting in the chair Gaius normally occupied by Merlin's bed. "Thankfully. I was going crazy being cooped up in there, even with Guinevere for company."

"You can't tell me you didn't honestly enjoy having her there."

"No, no, of course I did," Arthur said hurriedly. "But there is only so much of each other we can take."

Merlin raised an eyebrow suggestively but then smiled. Arthur smiled back.

"How are you feeling?"

"Much better," Merlin answered. "The fever's finally broke."

"I can see that," Arthur said, watching the sweat run down Merlin's cheek. "But I thought the fever broke yesterday. Guinevere said you were sweating it out when she came to see you."

"Uh," Merlin stammered. "Well, yes, but it came back last night and now it's gone again. Gaius said that's normal."

"I'll take his word for it," Arthur said, reaching into the basin of cool water and wringing out the cloth – both of which had been left there entirely for show. "Here."

"Thanks," Merlin said, slightly surprised by the bedside manner. He pressed the cloth against his forehead.

"I should be the one thanking you," replied Arthur. "Gaius and Gwen both say you didn't leave my side."

"I was just doing my job."

"No, doing your job would have been changing the sheets and doing the laundry," Arthur corrected. "But you care about me too much to be limited to that."

Merlin shrugged.

"So thank you," Arthur repeated.

"You did the same for me."

It was Arthur's turn to shrug.

"Speaking of sheets," Merlin said, a sly grin coming to his face. "Gwen told me you actually know how to change a bed."

"Does that surprise you?"

"A little bit," Merlin admitted. "Maybe you should do it more often."

"Why? That's what I have you for, among other things."

And it was true. Merlin would always be Arthur's servant, destined to change sheets and muck out stalls, but Arthur was learning more and more each day that his servant was so much more. He was a friend who took care of him regardless of where they were or what they were facing and while it had been a long week of feeling sick, it would have been infinitely longer without Merlin to help him through it.

 **Reviews are always appreciated, thank you!**

 **And that, my friends, concludes** _ **A Long Week**_ **. I sincerely hope you've enjoyed reading it as much as I've enjoyed writing it.**

 **Happy reading and writing,**

 **StoryLover18**


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